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^  LIBRARY 


UNIVFR^TTY   OF   CALIFORNIA. 

Ucessions  No.  Xf^^O          shelf  Xo. 
tir -t5 


•<^ 


UNIVERSAL  HISTORY 


UNIVERSAL  HISTORY 

THE  OLDEST  HISTORICAL  GROUP  OF  NATIONS 
AND  THE  GREEKS 


BY 

LEOPOLD  YON  RANKE 


EDITED  BY 

G.  W.   PPtOTHERO 

FELLOW  AND  TUTOR  OP  KINO'S  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE 


>^   OF"  Tni5 

'U'HIViiRSITT] 


NEW   YORK 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS,   FRANKLIN    SQUARE 

1885 


>y  f'O 


EDITOR'S   PREFACE. 


No  apology  can  be  needed  for  introducing  to  English 
readers  the  latest  work  of  Leopold  von  Kanke.  Even  if  the 
name  of  the  author  were  not  sufficient  justification,  it  might 
be  found  in  the  fact  that  no  similar  attempt  to  present  a  con- 
nected view  of  Universal  History  exists  in  the  English  lan- 
guage. The  scope  and  aim  of  the  work,  of  which  only  a  first 
instalment  is  here  presented,  arc  explained  by  the  author  in 
his  preface.  All,  therefore,  that  is  incumbent  on  the  editor 
is  to  describe  the  way  in  which  the  translation  has  been  pro- 
duced, and  to  point  out  some  slight  departures  from  the  orig- 
inal. 

The  first  half  of  tlie  present  volume  was  translated  by  the 
Rev.  D.  C.  Tovey,  Assistant  Master  at  Eton  College;  the 
second  half  and  the  preface  were  translated  by  the  editor. 
Botli  portions  have  been  carefully  revised  by  Mr.  F.W.  Cornish, 
Assistant  Master  at  Eton  College.  The  whole  work  when  in 
proof  was  finally  gone  over  again  by  the  editor,  who  is  solely 
responsible  for  the  form  in  which  it  eventually  appears. 
Great  care  has  been  taken  to  represent  the  ideas  and  thoughts 
of  the  author  with  the  utmost  fidelity,  and  even,  wherever 
the  nature  of  the  language  permits,  to  preserve  his  actual  ex- 
pressions. Whatever  other  defects  may  be  noted,  I  feel  con- 
fident that  here,  at  least,  the  reader  will  seldom  have  occasion 
to  complain. 

I  have  ventured  to  depart  from  the  original  in  two  partic- 


vi  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

niarsy  namelj,  the  spelling  of  proper  names  and  tlie  treat- 
ment of  the  notes.  In  the  Egyptian,  Assyrian,  and  Jewish 
proper  names  which  occur  in  the  Bible,  I  have  adopted  the 
Biblical  form  as  being  more  familiar  to  English  readers,  ad- 
hering in  other  cases  to  that  adopted  by  Herr  von  Ranke.  In 
Greek  names,  while  the  author  preserves  the  Latinized  forms 
which  were  in  ordinary  use  till  our  own  time,  I  have  preferred, 
in  deference  to  modern  opinion,  to  attempt  a  nearer  repre- 
sentation of  the  original.  In  the  transliteration  of  Greek 
names  it  is  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  be  quite  con- 
sistent; and  I  do  not  pretend  to  have  solved  the  problem. 
Believing,  however,  that  in  a  work  of  this  kind  it  is  well  to 
avoid  so  complete  a  transformation  as  would  be  involved  by 
an  attempt  exactly  to  reproduce  the  original,  and  that  an  ap- 
proximation to  the  correct  sound  is  more  important  than 
philological  accuracy,  I  have  adopted  the  following  rules. 

In  those  cases  where  the  word  is  completely  disguised  by 
the  Latin  form,  as  Aias  or  Odysseus,  it  is  easy  and  on  every 
ground  desirable  to  restore  the  Greek  form,  and  I  have  accord- 
ingly done  so  without  hesitation.  But  the  great  majority  of 
Greek  names  have  not  suffered  so  violent  a  metamorphosis, 
and  in  these  cases  a  return  to  the  Greek  is  not  so  indispen- 
sable. Nevertheless,  here  too  some  approximation  seems  to 
be  called  for.  The  most  important  departure  from  the  Greek 
18  caused  by  the  substitution  of  the  Latin  C  for  the  Greek  K. 
Accordingly,  where  the  Greek  K  occui*s,  I  have  used  the 
corresponding  English  letter,  retaining  the  ordinary  spelling 
wherever  it  does  not  pervert  the  sound  of  the  word.  Thus,  I 
write  Alkibiades  and  Kimon,  but  Critias  and  Pericles.  The 
only  exceptions  to  this  nile  are  those  words  which,  through 
Biblical  or  other  usage,  have  been,  in  a  sense,  incorporated  in 
the  English  language,  as,  for  instance,  Cynis,  Cyprus,  Cilicia. 
The  sibilntion  which  gives  to  English  ears  so  false  an  idea  of 
the  Greek  tongue  is  thus,  as  a  rule,  avoided.    Secondly,  I 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  vij 

have  endeavored  to  indicate  not  only  sound,  but  quantity,  by 
restoring  the  diphthong  in  words  like  Dareius,  Aristeides, 
Niksea,  ^gsean.  In  the  terminations,  however,  I  have  gener- 
ally retained  the  ordinary  form,  as  Menelaus,  Phalerum,  not 
thinking  it  worth  while  to  make  a  change  in  this  respect. 

In  dealing  with  the  notes,  I  have  acted  on  the  conviction 
that  it  is  important  in  a  work  of  this  kind,  treating  of  the 
broad  facts  of  history  rather  than  its  details,  and  edited  for  an 
English  public,  to  trouble  the  reader  with  as  few  notes  as  pos- 
sible. I  have,  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  generally  incorpo- 
rated the  chronological  notes  iil  the  text,  retaining,  however, 
in  their  former  position  such  as  indicate  any  divergence  of 
authority  with  respect  to  dates,  or  touch  on  disputed  points 
of  chronology.  I  have  thought  it  unnecessary  to  reprint  mere 
references  to  ancient  writers  in  support  or  illustration  of 
accepted  facts  in  Biblical  or  Greek  history,  while  keeping 
those  in  which  Ilerr  von  Ranke  acknowledf!:es  his  obh^ations 
to  modern  authors.  All  notes  containing  any  controversial 
matter  or  anything  additional  to  the  text  have,  of  course,  been 
retained  in  full.  In  no  case  has  anything  been  added.  The 
second  volume  of  the  German  edition  concludes  with  an  ap- 
pendix on  the  chronology  of  Ensebius,  which  has  not  been 
translated,  since  those  readers  who  wish  to  go  deeply  into  the 
subject  will  doubtless  be  able  and  willing  to  consult  it  in  the 
original.  Lastly,  the  quotations  from  the  Old  Testament 
which  occur  in  the  text  have  been  given  as  they  stand  in  the 
English  Authorized  Version,  and  therefore  differ  slightly  here 
and  there  from  the  form  given  by  Herr  von  Ranke. 

For  the  index  to  this  volume,  and  for  other  valuable  assist- 
ance, I  have  gratefully  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  my 
wife. 

In  conclusion,  it  should  be  mentioned  that  the  work,  in  the 
German  edition,  already  extends  to  about  the  end  of  the  sixth 
century  of  our  era,  occupying  altogether  a  space  equal  to  four 


viii  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

volumes  similar  to  that  now  presented  to  the  public.  The 
author  intends  to  complete  the  work  by  bringing  it  down  to 
our  own  day,  and  when  finished  it  will  probably  occupy  some 
six  or  seven  such  volumes.  It  must  depend  on  the  reception 
of  this  instalment  by  the  public  whether  the  translation  will 
be  continued. 

G.  W.  Pkothero. 


PREFACE, 


History  cannot  discuss  the  origin  of  society,  for  the  art  of 
writing,  which  is  the  basis  of  historical  knowledge,  is  a  com- 
paratively late  invention.  The  earth  had  become  habitable 
and  was  inhabited,  nations  had  arisen  and  international  con- 
nections had  been  formed,  and  the  elements  of  civilization  had 
appeared,  while  that  art  was  still  unknown.  The  province  of 
Ilistory  is  limited  by  tlie  means  at  her  command,  and  the 
historian  would  be  over-bold  who  should  venture  to  unveil  the 
mystery  of  the  primeval  world,  the  relation  of  mankind  to 
God  and  nature.  The  solution  of  such  problems  must  be  in- 
trusted to  the  joint  efforts  of  Theology  and  Science. 

From  this  primeval  world  we  pass  to  the  monuments  of  a 
period  less  distant  but  still  inconceivably  remote,  the  vesti- 
bule, as  it  were,  of  Ilistory.  These  monuments  have  hitherto 
excited  the  admiration  and  defied  the  intelligence  of  succes- 
sive generations,  but  during  the  last  hundred  years  we  have 
obtained  more  accurate  information  and  a  clearer  understand- 
ing of  them  than  were  possessed  before.  In  our  own  day  the 
ruins  of  buried  cities  have  been  disinterred,  and  buildings 
have  been  discovered,  on  the  walls  of  which  the  mightiest 
monarchs  of  their  day  caused  their  deeds  to  be  inscribed. 
Archaeological  investigation  is  now  everywhere  pursued  with 
a  sort  of  filial  affection,  and  every  new  fact  brought  to  light  is 
greeted  as  a  fortunate  discovery,  while  art  and  antiquity  have 
become  almost  identical  conceptions.     These  monuments  of 


X  PREFACE. 

the  past  are  naturally  connected  with  the  relics,  unfortu- 
nately but  too  fragmentary,  of  the  ancient  religions,  rituals, 
and  constitutions  which  have  survived  to  our  own  time. 
Around  the  various  centres  of  investigation  groups  of  studies 
have  grown  up,  each  of  which  forms  a  department  by  itself 
and  demands  the  devoted  attention  of  a  lifetime.  Lastly,  a 
universal  science  of  language  has  arisen,  which,  based  upon 
learning  as  minute  as  it  is  extensive,  undertakes  with  success 
the  task  of  distinguishing  and  contrasting  international  re- 
lationships. 

For  the  direction  of  all  who  are  interested  in  these  re- 
searches, as  well  as  for  the  instruction  of  the  public  at  large, 
nothing  could  be  more  desirable  than  a  scientific  synopsis 
and  correlation  of  these  various  studies.  Such  a  work  would 
fittingly  adorn  an  encyclopagdia  of  historical  knowledge,  but 
it  cannot  be  introduced  into  Universal  Ilistor}^,  which  claims 
as  its  province  only  the  ascertained  results  of  historical  re- 
search. History  begins  at  the  point  where  monuments  be- 
come intelligible  and  documentary  evidence  of  a  trustworthy 
character  is  forthcoming,  bnt  from  this  point  onwards  her 
domain  is  boundless.  Universal  History,  as  we  understand 
the  term,  embraces  the  events  of  all  times  and  nations,  with 
this  limitation  only,  that  they  shall  bo  so  far  ascertained  as 
to  make  a  scientific  treatment  of  them  possible. 

The  liistorians  of  bygone  days  were  satisfied  with  tlie  con- 
ception of  the  four  great  empires  of  the  world,  drawn  from 
the  prophetic  books  of  the  Bible.  As  late  as  the  seventeenth 
century  this  conception  prevailed,  but  in  the  eighteenth  it 
was  upset  by  the  general  progress  of  civilization.  Through 
the  revolution  in  ideas  which  then  took  place  the  notion  of 
Universal  History  was,  as  it  were,  secularized,  a  result  chiefly 
due  to  the  publication  of  a  voluminous  record  of  different 
nations  under  the  title  of  a  "  Universal  History,"  which,  appear- 
ing in  England,  was  welcomed  by  German  scholai's  and  incited 


PREFACE.  xi 

the  latter  to  a  display  of  similar  industry.  But  it  was  impos- 
sible to  remain  content  with  the  history  of  individual  nations. 
A  collection  of  national  histories,  whether  on  a  larger  or  a 
smaller  scale,  is  not  what  we  mean  by  Universal  History,  for 
in  such  a  work  the  general  connection  of  things  is  liable  to  be 
obscured.  To  recognize  this  connection,  to  trace  the  sequence 
of  those  great  events  which  link  all  nations  together  and  con- 
trol their  destinies,  is  the  task  which  the  science  of  Universal 
History  undertakes.  That  such  a  connection  exists  a  glance 
is  enough  to  show. 

The  first  beginnings  of  culture  belong  to  an  epoch  whose 
secrets  we  are  unable  to  decipher,  but  its  development  is  the 
most  universal  phenomenon  of  those  times  concerning  which 
trustworthy  tradition  is  forthcoming.  Its  nature  cannot  be 
expressed  completely  by  any  one  word.  It  embraces  both 
religious  and  political  life,  with  all  that  is  fundamental  in  law 
and  society.  From  time  to  time  the  institutions  of  one  or 
other  of  the  Oriental  nations,  inherited  from  primeval  times, 
have  been  regarded  as  the  germ  from  which  all  civilization 
has  sprung.  But  the  nations  whose  characteristic  is  eternal 
repose  form  a  hopeless  starting-point  for  one  who  would  under- 
stand the  internal  movement  of  Universal  History.  The  na- 
tions can  be  regarded  in  no  other  connection  than  in  that  of 
the  mutual  action  and  reaction  involved  by  their  successive 
appearance  on  the  stage  of  history  and  their  combination  into 
one  progressive  community. 

Culture  or  civilization,  by  whichever  name  we  choose  to 
call  it,  contains  one  of  the  most  powerful  motives  of  internal 
development.  To  forecast  its  ultimate  aim  would  be  a  fruit- 
less task,  for  the  movement  of  Universal  History  is  infinite 
in  the  range  of  its  results.  The  limits  of  historical  inquiry 
confine  our  attention  to  the  various  phases  in  which  this 
element  of  culture  appears,  side  by  side  with  the  opposition 
which  in  each  of  them  it  encounters  from  the  inveterate 


xii  PREFACE. 

peculiarities  of  the  different  nations  and  tribes  with  whom  it 
comes  in  contact.  These  peculiarities,  again,  have  their  origi- 
nal justification  and  possess  an  inextinguishable  vitality. 

But  historical  development  does  not  rest  on  the  tendency 
towards  civilization  alone.  It  arises  also  from  impulses  of  a 
very  different  kind,  especially  from  the  rivalry  of  nations 
engaged  in  conflict  with  eacli  other  for  the  possession  of  the 
soil  or  for  political  supremacy.  It  is  in  and  through  this 
conflict,  affecting  as  it  does  all  the  domain  of  culture,  that 
the  great  empires  of  history  are  formed.  In  their  unceasing 
struggle  for  dominion  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  each 
nation  are  modified  by  universal  tendencies,  but  at  the  same 
time  resist  and  react  upon  them. 

Universal  History  would  degenerate  into  mere  theory  and 
speculation  if  it  were  to  desert  the  firm  ground  of  national 
liistory,  but  just  as  little  can  it  afford  to  cling  to  this  ground 
alone.  The  history  of  each  separate  nation  throws  light  on 
the  history  of  humanity  at  large ;  but  there  is  a  general  his- 
torical life,  which  moves  progressively  from  one  nation  or 
group  of  nations  to  another.  In  the  conflict  between  the 
different  national  groups  Universal  History  comes  into  being, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  sense  of  nationality  is  aroused, 
for  nations  do  not  draw  tlieir  impulses  to  growth  from  them- 
selves alone.  Nationalities  so  powerful  and  distinct  as  the 
English  or  the  Italian  are  not  so  much  the  offspring  of  the 
soil  and  the  race  as  of  the  great  events  through  which  they 
have  passed. 

Wo  have  therefore  to  investigate  and  understand  not  onl}' 
tlie  universal  life  of  mankind,  but  the  peculiarities  of  at  any 
rate  the  more  prominent  nations.  In  tliis  attempt  tlie  laws  of 
historical  criticism,  which  liold  good  in  every  detailed  inquiry, 
may  on  no  account  be  neglected,  for  it  is  only  the  results  of 
critical  investigation  which  can  be  dignified  with  the  title  of 
history  at  all.    Our  glance  must  indeed  bo  always  fi.xed  on 


PREFACE. 


Xlll 


the  universal,  but  from  false  premises  only  false  conclusions 
can  be  drawn.  Critical  inquiry  and  intelligent  generalization 
are  mutually  indispensable. 

In  conversation  with  intimate  friends  I  have  often  discussed 
the  question  whether  it  be  possible  to  write  a  Universal 
History  on  such  principles  as  these.  We  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  perfection  was  not  to  be  attained,  but  that  it 
was  none  the  less  necessary  to  make  the  attempt.  Such  an 
attempt  I  now  lay  before  the  public.  My  point  of  view 
throughout  has  been  the  following :  In  the  course  of  ages  the 
human  race  has  won  for  itself  a  sort  of  heirloom  in  the  ma- 
terial and  social  advance  which  it  has  made,  but  still  more  in 
its  religious  development.  One  portion  of  this  heritage,  the 
most  precious  jewel  of  the  whole,  consists  of  those  immortal 
works  of  genius  in  poetry  and  literature,  in  science  and  art, 
which,  while  modified  by  the  local  conditions  under  which 
they  w^ere  produced,  yet  represent  what  is  common  to  all 
mankind.  With  this  possession  are  inseparably  combined  the 
memories  of  events,  of  ancient  institutions,  and  of  great  men 
who  have  passed  away.  One  generation  hands  on  this  tradi- 
tion to  another,  and  it  may  from  time  to  time  be  revived  and 
recalled  to  the  minds  of  men.  This  is  the  thought  which 
gives  me  courage  and  confidence  to  undertake  the  task. 


CONTENTS. 


THE  OLDEST  HISTORICAL  GROUP  OF  NATIONS  AND  THE 

GREEKS. 

OVLKV.  TAQB 

I.  AMON-RA,  BAAL,  JEHOVAH,  AND  ANCIENT  EGYPT 1 

n.  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL 28 

IH.  TYRE  AND  ASSUR ...      59 

IV.  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM 89 

V.  ANCIENT  HELLAS 116 

VL  THE  ENCOUNTER  BETWEEN  THE  GREEKS  AND  THE  PER- 
SIAN EMPIRE 153 

VIL  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY  AND   ITS  LEADERS 194 

1.  Aristeides  and  Pericles  as  Opponents  of  Kimon 19'4 

2.  The  Administration  of  Pericles 209 

3.  Cleon  and  his  Epoch 227 

4.  Alkibiades 241 

5.  State  of  Things  at  Athens  during  the  Y'ears  immediately  Before 

and  After  the  End  of  the  Peloponnesian  War. 263 

VIIL  ANTAGONISM  AND  GROWTH  OF  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS  IN  GREEK 

LITERATURE 280 

1.  The  Older  Philosophers  in  the  Colonies,  especially  in  those  of  the 

West 280 

2.  Pindar 284 

3.  ^schylus 289 

4.  Sophocles ...  294 

5.  Euripides 300 

6.  Herodotus  and  Thukydides 305 

7.  Intellectual  Life  at  Athens 317 

8.  Socrates 323 

9.  Plato  and  Aristotle 329 


xvi  CONTENTS. 

OnAP.  PACK 

IX.  THE    RELATIONS   OF    PERSIA   AND    GREECE    DURING    THE 

FIRST  HALF  OF  THE  FOURTH  CENTURY,  B.C 342 

X.  THE  UNIVERSAL  MONARCHY  OF  MAKEDONIA 3G7 

1.  King  rhillp  and  Demosthenes 368 

2.  Alexander  the  Great 393 

XL  ORIGIN  OF  THE  GRiECO-MAKEDONLVN  KINGDOMS 442 

XIL  A  GLANCE  AT  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE 4C9 

INDEX 485 


UNIVERSAL  HISTORY. 


Chapter  I. 
AMON-RA,  BAAL,  JEHOVAH,  AND  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

In  the  dawn  of  history  tlie  popular  conceptions  of  things 
divine  are  found  to  coincide  with  the  tendencies  of  human 
life  and  the  spirit  of  political  organization.  They  summarize 
and  express  those  tendencies  and  that  spirit  in  a  form  more 
intelligible  to  us  than  any  detailed  description  of  circumstances 
and  institutions.  The  ideal  to  which  humanity  aspires  is  al- 
ways a  divine  ideal,  and  the  efforts  of  mankind,  however 
strong  may  be  the  alien  influence  of  physical  conditions,  are 
unceasingly  directed  towards  this  goal.  With  these  concep- 
tions, therefore,  I  begin. 

In  ancient  Egypt  we  meet  with  three  distinct  forms  in 
which  men  have  shadowed  forth  their  consciousness  of  divine 
things.  The  first  is  one,  so  to  speak,  aboriginal,  arising  from 
and  corresponding  to  the  nature  of  the  soil.  In  all  times  men 
have  premised  and  thought  themselves  justified  in  assuming 
an  immediate  and  local  influence  on  the  part  of  their  divini- 
ties. This  form  I  distinguish  by  the  most  general  name — the 
worship  of  the  Egyptians.  It  corresponded  to  the  founda- 
tions of  the  life  and  culture  of  the  nation.  But  the  possession 
of  the  soil  becomes  the  prize  for  which  other  nations  contend. 
Egypt,  a  rich  and  self-sufficing  region,  excited  the  cupidity  of 
neighboring  races  which  served  other  gods.  Under  the  name 
of  the  Shepherd-peoples,  foreign  despots  and  races  ruled  Egypt 
for  several  centuries.  These  followed  the  ensigns  of  another 
god,  who,  however,  was  not  peculiar  to  themselves,  but  be- 

1 


2  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

longed  to  all  the  peoples  of  Western  Asia.  This  was  the  god 
Baal,  who  appears  in  Egypt  under  the  name  Sutecli,  and  is 
held  accursed  as  the  evil  principle.  As  might  naturally  be 
expected,  a  deadly  struggle  broke  out  between  the  two  relig- 
ions. The  result  was  that  the  Egyptian  worship  not  only 
reinstated  itself  and  expelled  the  invader,  but  sought  out  and 
vanquished  the  latter  in  its  own  home.  But  even  while  these 
two  religions  were  struggling  with  each  other,  there  arose  a 
third,  in  which  the  Divine  Idea  was  exalted  above  nature. 
This  religion  Egypt  cannot  be  properly  said  to  have  expelled ; 
it  emancipated  itself  by  its  own  power.  The  steps  by  which 
this  religion,  when  it  had  once  made  itself  independent,  ob- 
tained the  supremacy  over  all  other  forms  of  religious  wor- 
ship, and  became  one  of  the  fundamental  principles  both  of 
Islam  and  of  the  Christian  world,  form  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant elements  in  universal  history.  From  the  very  first 
this  religion  developed  itself  in  opposition  to  the  ancient  wor- 
ship of  Egypt. 

The  Egyptian  religion  has  its  origin  in  an  epoch  which 
we  lack  the  means  of  investigating.  In  inquiring  into  its 
meaning  and  purport,  we  have  no  intention  of  encroaching 
upon  those  labors  by  which  modern  research  endeavors  to 
clear  up  this  obscure  subject.  Egypt  forms  the  conclusion  of 
an  introductory  chapter  of  human  history,  a  period  of  incon- 
ceivable duration,  whose  most  precious  legacy  consists  of  the 
more  ancient  Egyptian  monuments.  In  this  epoch  the  relig- 
ion of  the  country  had  its  beginning,  a  religion  to  which, 
with  all  its  defects,  we  must  assign  a  world-wide  signifi- 
cance. 

The  cosmic  phenomena,  by  which  life  on  earth  is  gener- 
ally conditioned,  dominate  it  nowhere  so  absolutely  as  in  the 
mysterious  region  which  is  called  Egypt.  Everything  rests 
npon  the  fact  that  the  Nile  by  its  inundations  has  turned  the 
land  near  its  banks  in  the  midst  of  the  desert  into  a  soil  ca- 
pable of  cultivation,  and  by  its  alluvial  deposits  has  gradu- 
ally converted  the  bay  into  which  it  originally  fell  into  one  of 
the  richest  plains  in  the  world.  Chemical  analysis  has  shown 
that  there  is  nowhere  a  more  fruitful  soil  than  that  formed  by 
the  mud  of  the  Nile.     These  ovei-flows,  however,  which  have 


RELIGION.  3 

not  only  fertilized  the  land,  but  have  even  partially  created 
it,  are  limited  to  fixed  seasons  of  the  year.  They  occur, 
though  not  always  to  the  same  extent,  yet  with  absolute  cer- 
titude at  the  times  once  for  all  determined. 

The  language  of  ancient  Egypt  has  been  supposed  to  pre- 
sent a  distant  affinity  with  the  Semitic  tongues.  But,  isolated 
as  they  were  by  nature,  it  is  no  wonder  if  the  Egyptians 
framed  a  religion  exclusively  their  own,  and  a  political  con- 
stitution equally  peculiar.  Both  were  based  upon  the  physical 
conditions  alluded  to  above.  The  inundation  which  flooded 
the  whole  country  was  but  a  single  event.  It  was  necessary, 
therefore,  that  the  whole  country  should  be  under  one  govern- 
ment, with  power  to  guide  the  water  into  districts  which  oth- 
erwise it  might  not  have  reached,  and  to  re-establish  the  limits 
of  individual  property,  which  were  on  each  occasion  ef^ced. 
Such  a  power  there  was ;  otherwise  the  people  would  have 
been  condemned  to  simple  slavery.  Where  the  ordinary  and 
habitual  conditions  of  agriculture  exist,  a  territorial  nobility^ 
may  be  established  which,  gathered  in  cities,  assumes  repub- 
lican forms.  Here,  however,  where  the  fixity  of  property  is 
dependent  upon  occurrences  which  affect  all  without  dis- 
tinction, the  prevision  and  active  forethought  of  a  single  su- 
preme power  are  necessarily  implied.  The  deity,  whose  or- 
daining hand  is  to  be  recognized  in  the  course  of  the  sun, 
upon  which  everything  depends,  and  the  king,  who  devises 
the  arrangements  for  security  upon  earth,  are  in  idea  indis- 
solubly  connected.  On  the  monuments,  indeed,  we  see  the 
king  presenting  to  the  god  emblems  representative  of  the 
different  provinces,  each  with  attributes  of  an  agricultural 
nature.  The  gods  appear  under  divergent  names,  varying 
with  the  chief  towns  and  provinces  in  which  they  were  wor- 
shipped. To  the  principal  of  them,  however,  Ka,  Ptah,  Amon, 
the  same  designations  are  assigned.  They  form  but  one  di- 
vinity under  different  names.  A  hero  who  wished  to  see  the 
god  Amon  met  with  a  refusal.  The  Divine,  it  was  said,  re- 
vealed itself  only  through  its  w^orks,  and  under  a  multiplicity 
of  forms.  God  is  not,  properly  speaking,  the  creator  of  the 
world.  He  did  not  say,  "  Let  there  be  light,"  and  there  was 
light ;  he  summoned  the  sun,  which  accordingly  must  have 


4  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

been  in  existence  already,  and  prescribed  his  conrse.  There 
are,  however,  opposing  elements  which  exert  themselves  to 
disturb  the  order  introduced  into  the  universe  by  the  deity. 
The  deity  is  further  identified  with  the  Nile,  the  chief  sup- 
port and  basis  of  life,  no  less  than  with  the  sun  itself,  and  is 
manifested  in  the  animal  world  even  more  immediately  than 
in  man.  The  bull  Apis  is  the  living  tjpe  of  the  god  Osiris, 
who  is  regarded  especially  as  the  giver  of  all  good. 

Man  is  not  considered  as  an  incarnation  of  deity,  although 
the  legend  makes  him  spring  from  the  eye  of  deity,  the  sun. 
He  was  at  first  without  speech  or  language ;  this  as  well  as 
everything  else  was  taught  him  by  the  gods.  Religious  wor- 
ship was  the  principal  business  of  the  Egyptian  :  properly 
speaking,  there  was  nothing  profane  in  the  land.  There  was 
a  numerous  priesthood,  which  everywhere  represented  the 
national  religion,  and  was  besides  in  possession  of  the  science 
and  experience  by  which  everything  is  regulated.  Nor  is 
the  science  of  Egypt  to  be  spoken  of  with  contempt.  The 
Egyptians,  in  this  rivalling  Babylon,  determined  the  course 
of  the  sun  in  relation  to  the  earth,  and  divided  the  year  ac- 
cordingly. Their  system  was  at  once  so  scientific  and  so 
practical,  that  Julius  Caesar  adopted  their  calendar  and  intro- 
duced it  within  the  Roman  empire.  The  rest  of  the  world 
followed  suit,  and  for  seventeen  centuries  it  was  in  universal 
use.  Among  the  relics  of  primeval  times  the  calendar  may 
be  regarded  as  the  one  which  has  attained  to  most  conspicu- 
ous influence  in  the  world. 

With  this  idea  of  God  is  closely  associated  the  monarchical 
authority.  The  king  is  not  only  established  b}'  God,  he  is 
himself  of  the  lineage  of  God,  and  returns  to  God  when  he 
dies.  Never  were  there  rulers  who  made  it  more  their  con- 
cern to  oppose  to  the  perishable  nature  of  things,  imperish- 
able monuments.  The  traveller  who  visits  the  pyramids  of 
Gizeh  stands  in  silent  awe  as  lie  gazes  upon  these  gigantic 
monuments  of  the  remotest  antiquity  in  their  mysterious 
solitude.  They  stjind  there  lonely  in  time  as  in  space.  The 
appeal  of  a  great  general  of  modern  times  to  his  troops, 
"  Forty  centuries  look  down  upon  you,"  was  perhaps  after  all 
an  inadequate  expression  of  tlie  tnitli.     Innunierablo  aro  the 


MONARCnY.  5 

centuries  which  look  down  from  the  pyramids  upon  the  races 
of  to-day. 

In  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  research,  we  have,  as  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  Egyptologists  has  expressly  admitted,  not 
advanced  far  beyond  Herodotus  in  positive  knowledge  of  an- 
cient Egyptian  history.  Now,  as  then,  the  first  founder  of 
the  monarchy  appears  to  have  been  that  Menes  who,  descend- 
ing from  Thinis,  founded  Memphis,  "  the  goodly  dwelling." 
The  great  dike  which  he  built  to  protect  the  town  against 
the  inundations  of  the  Nile  afforded  at  the  same  time  a  secure 
stronghold  for  the  dominion  over  the  Delta.  According  to  a 
legend  preserved  elsewhere,  Menes  succumbed  in  a  struggle 
with  a  crocodile  while  engaged  in  his  task  of  subduing  the 
hostile  powers  of  nature.  Of  all  the  names  out  of  which  the 
three  dynasties  in  immediate  succession  to  Menes  have  been 
compiled,  nothing  memorable  is  recorded.  In  the  fourth  dy- 
nasty at  length  appear  the  builders  of  the  great  pyramids, 
the  noble  sepulchral  monuments  of  epochs  inconceivably  re- 
mote. 

It  is  easy  to  see  even  at  the  present  time  from  how  great  a 
distance  the  blocks  of  stone  have  been  brouglit  to  form  a  flat 
surface  round  the  monument  to  be  erected.  The  foundations 
of  the  building  were  cased  in  granite.  The  regular  entrances 
were  closed  by  trap-doors  of  granite.  The  long  passages  lead- 
ing to  the  sepulchral  chambers  are  constructed  upon  an  ad- 
mirable plan.  The  chambers  themselves  were  entirely  carved 
out  of  the  rock,  with  the  exception  of  the  roof,  which  was 
formed  of  huge  blocks  of  limestone.  In  the  very  centre  of 
the  building  is  found  the  sarcophagus,  which  in  the  two  larg- 
est pyramids  is  without  any  inscription.  The  name  of  the 
builder,  however,  was  given  in  an  inscription  on  a  slab  of 
granite  outside.  The  amount  of  force  employed  is  as  remark- 
able as  the  architectural  skill  displayed  throughout.  These 
structures  belong  to  this  region  and  this  alone.  Tradition 
was  not  agreed  whether  they  were  erected  in  complete  har- 
mony with  the  Egyptian  gods  or  in  defiance  of  them ;  the 
first  of  the  builders  are  called  arrogant  enemies  of  the  gods, 
the  last  builder  their  servant  and  the  friend  of  the  nation  by 
whom  they  are  worshipped. 


6  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

Even  after  this,  however,  we  find  only  a  list  of  names  to 
which  no  actions  are  attributed  that  could  give  them  any  sig- 
nificance. We  pass  on  to  the  so-called  sixth  dynasty,  which 
is  made  significant  through  the  name  of  Nitocris,  or,  as  it  also 
appears  on  the  monuments,  Nitagrit.  We  are  familiar  with 
the  heroic  legend  which  Herodotus  was  told,  how  that  Nito- 
cris was  exalted  to  be  queen  by  the  magnates  of  the  land,  who 
had  slain  her  husband  ;  and  how  she  avenged  his  nmrder 
upon  them,  inviting  those  implicated  in  the  crime  into  a  sub- 
terranean hall,  into  which  she  brought  a  canal  from  the  river, 
so  that  they  were  destroyed.  But  this  action  made  life  im- 
possible for  her;  she  threw  herself  into  a  space  enclosed  by  a 
wall  and  filled  with  red-hot  embers,  and  died. 

The  murder  of  a  king,  a  crafty  woman's  revenge,  the  de- 
struction of  the  guilty  by  the  river,  the  suicide  of  the  queen 
in  red-hot  embers,  interrupt  the  first  series  of  Egyptian  kings 
with  a  story  which  could  have  been  conceived  nowhere  else 
but  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  I  do  not  venture  to  fix  a  time 
in  which  these  occurrences  could  be  placed.*  They  belong,  if 
I  mistake  not,  to  the  traditions  which  have  passed  as  a  heri- 
tage from  the  remotest  antiquity  to  later  generations.  After 
this  ^VG  hundred  years  pass  by,  about  which  the  monuments 
are  practically  silent.  An  occurrence  such  as  that  must  have 
been  which  forms  the  historic  foundation  of  the  story  of  Ni- 
tocris could  not  fail  to  bring  the  most  intricate  complications 
in  its  train.  Yet  the  unity  of  Egypt  was  maintained.  The 
dynasty  which  appears  as  the  twelfth  in  the  successive  se- 
ries, and  which  had  its  capital  no  longer  at  Memphis,  but  at 
Thebes,  extended  the  territory  towards  the  north  and  south, 
formed  a  well-secured  frontier,  and  left  as  its  legacy  a  work  of 
hydraulic  engineering  the  aim  of  which  exactly  includes  and 
expresses  the  principle  which  gives  the  land  of  the  Nile  its 
unity.  Herodotus  liad  seen  and  admired  the  Lake  Moeris ; 
the  name  of  the  King  Ma3ri8,  to  whom  he  attributed  it,  rests 


*  I  must  not  bo  misunderstood.  I  yield  to  none  in  my  admiration  for 
the  industry  and  attention  which  antiquaries  have  devoted  to  the  chro- 
nological order  of  the  kings ;  but  it  can  form  no  part  of  my  design  to  fol- 
low them  into  these  regions. 


THE  PYRAMIDS.  7 

upon  a  misconception.  But  the  work,  magnificent  in  its  very 
ruins,  still  exists.  It  is  not  a  natural  lake,  but  an  excavated 
reservoir,  with  enormous  dikes  about  fifty  feet  in  width,  and 
it  was  designed,  when  the  Nile  rose,  to  receive  the  waters 
which  might  perhaps  have  worked  mischief  in  the  Delta,  and 
to  reserve  them  for  times  when  the  inundation  of  the  country 
did  not  attain  the  height  requisite  for  its  fertility.  In  the 
water  was  to  be  seen  the  colossus  of  stone  which  perpetuated 
the  memory  of  the  constructor,  Amenemhat  III.;  for  to  reg- 
ulate the  inundations  was  the  principal  business  of  a  ruler  of 
Egypt.  It  must  have  been  in  close  connection  with  this  duty, 
if  not  expressly  on  account  of  it,  that  this  prince  and  the  dy- 
nasty to  which  he  belonged  extended  the  frontier,  in  order  to 
obtain  in  due  time  infonnation  of  the  rising  of  the  Nile  and 
to  transmit  it  to  the  plains  below. 

In  the  sepulchral  chamber  of  Chnumhotep,  one  of  the  pro- 
vincial governors  under  this  dynasty,  we  discover  the  names  of 
the  kings.  Much  instruction  may  be  gained  from  these  sepul- 
chral chambers,  and  we  venture  to  linger  over  them  for  a  mo- 
ment, since  they  bring  before  our  eyes,  at  least  in  individual 
instances,  the  condition  of  the  country  at  a  significant  period."^ 

In  the  sepulchral  chambers  of  Beni-IIassan,  Chnumhotep 
appears  in  the  midst  of  his  own  possessions,  which,  from  the 
districts  in  the  east,  whose  guardianship  has  been  confided  to 
him  by  the  king,  extend  far  into  the  west.  We  see  him  rep- 
resented in  heroic  proportions  in  the  midst  of  the  waters, 
fields,  and  groves  which  the  inscription  assigns  to  him,  while 
his  people  are  threading  the  Nile  in  barks.  In  the  water  are 
to  be  seen  crocodiles,  hippopotami,  and  fish  ;  on  the  bank  are 
papyrus  plants,  on  which  we  can  distinguish  an  ichneumon,  at 
which  he  is  aiming  his  spear ;  above  are  water-fowl,  and  a 
tree,  upon  the  branches  of  which  birds  are  sitting.  On  the 
other  side  we  see  him  holding  in  his  hand  a  number  of  water- 
fowl which  he  has  killed.     Still  more  imposing  is  he  as  gov- 


*  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  mention  that  I  avail  myself  of  the  excel- 
lent monumental  work  which  Lepsius  was  enabled  to  execute  by  the  mu- 
nificence of  Frederick  William  IV.  Cf.  Lepsius,  "Denkmalcr,"  Bd.  iii. 
Abth.  3,  Bd.  i.  130. 


g  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

ernor  and  deputy  of  the  king.  lie  is  the  subject  of  a  design 
which  has  been  much  discussed,  in  which  neighboring  tribes 
are  represented  paying  him  homage.  An  Egyptian  scribe  is 
handing  to  the  deputy  a  sheet  of  papyrus.  The  visitors  have 
come  to  offer  him  cosmetics  for  the  eyes,  probably  for  the 
adornment  of  his  women.  Another  Egyptian  to  whom  he  has 
intrusted  the  charge  of  entertaining  the  strangers  seems  to  be 
introducing  them.  "VVe  see  the  chieftain  splendidly  dressed, 
with  eyes  downcast,  and  at  his  side  a  noble  ibex,  behind 
him  Ills  son,  also  with  a  young  ibex.  Behind  them  appear 
several  personages  in  rich  costume  with  bow  and  spear. 
They  belong,  as  the  inscription  says,  to  the  tribe  Amu. 
Ibexes  such  as  they  are  bringing  are  found  to  this  day  in  tlie 
peninsula  of  Sinai.  In  a  second  section  of  the  procession 
four  tall  and  carefully  dressed  women  occupy  a  conspicuous 
place ;  their  luxuriant  hair  falls  over  their  shoulders,  and  is 
compressed  in  front  by  a  band  across  the  forehead.  It  seems 
doubtful  whether  they  belong  to  the  family  of  the  strangers 
or  are  being  offered  as  a  present.  Before  and  behind  them 
are  beasts  of  burden  carrying  arms,  and  a  lute-player  depicted 
in  the  act  of  playing;  last  of  all,  again,  a  stately  warrior 
armed  with  bow,  quiver,  and  club.  They  appear  to  be  allies 
offering  homage  to  the  deputy,  who  here  represents  the  king. 
There  is  nothing  to  show  that  they  are  begging  to  be  admit- 
ted as  subjects,  and  it  is  clear  from  a  single  glance  that  there 
is  no  reference  to  the  children  of  Israel.  It  is  a  scene  from 
the  most  flourishing  era  of  the  Egyptian  power. 

We  see  clearly  how  far  the  art  of  reproducing  life  in  imita- 
tive forms  had  already  progressed  in  Egypt.  The  most  con- 
spicuous achievements  in  art  are,  however,  the  edifices  them- 
selves, which  satisfy  the  eye  in  their  colossal  grandeur,  and, 
though  not  always  what  wo  should  call  classic,  yet  give  con- 
stant evidence  of  technical  skill  and  aptitude  of  a  very  ad- 
vanced kind.  Colossal  dimensions  are  combined  with  accu- 
racy of  form,  as  in  those  statues  of  Memnon  to  which  tradi- 
tion ascribes  a  vocal  salutation  to  the  rising  sun.  It  is  the 
dawn  of  artistic  development  for  the  whole  human  race. 

In  those  sepulchral  chambers  are  conspicuous  also  the  sym- 
bols of  that  worship  of  the  gods  which,  though  radically  mod- 


PANTHEISM.  9 

ified  by  the  nature  of  life  in  the  valle}^  of  the  Nile,  yet  still 
retains  a  religious  import.  Anion,  even  with  his  ram's  head, 
appears  a  stately  and  truly  divine  form  in  contrast  with  those 
who  are  offering  him  their  presents,  their  pitchers  in  their 
hands.  It  is  very  striking  that  the  distinct  divinities  which 
are  named  beside  him  have  yet  the  same  attributes  as  his. 
These  attributes  imply  that  they  owe  their  existence  only  to 
themselves  and  are  the  rulers  of  the  world.  The  godhead, 
which,  as  we  have  already  mentioned,  would  not  reveal  itself 
in  its  own  form,  appears  also  with  the  head  of  a  falcon,  and 
even  in  the  form  of  a  beetle,  and  in  a  thousand  other  shapes. 
The  animal-worship  of  the  Egyptians  rests  upon  a  presump- 
tion that  the  deity  is  in  the  habit  of  assuming  certain  animal 
forms.  This  did  indeed  degenerate  into  a  brutish  idolatry, 
but  it  was  never  forgotten  that  all  was  symbolical,  and  wor- 
ship was  always  given  to  the  god  concealed  under  an  external 
form.  The  Egyptian  conceptions  may,  in  spite  of  instances 
of  degeneracy,  always  be  styled  a  religion,  and  form  a  pantlie- 
isra  embracing  the  whole  phenomenal  world  and  recurring 
even  in  man.  Life  was  not  ended  in  death ;  it  was  assumed 
that  it  returned  to  its  divine  source.  Another  Nileland  was 
imagined  beyond  the  grave,  the  Egyptian  having  neither 
power  nor  inclination  to  sever  himself  from  local  associations. 
The  soul  of  the  pure  is  united  to  the  Deity,  and  3'et  seems  to 
retain  its  individuality,  and  is  adored  by  posterity.  Hence 
the  extreme  care  bestowed  upon  the  sepulchres ;  in  the  sar- 
cophagus documents  are  placed,  designed  to  show  that  the  de- 
ceased is  worthy  of  admission  to  another  world. 

In  the  sepulchral  chambers  some  light  is  thrown  on  the  po- 
litical constitution  of  the  country.  The  deputy  above  men- 
tioned says  in  praise  of  King  Amenemhat  II.  that  he  has 
quelled  an  insurrection,  "  taken  possession  of  one  town  after 
another,  gathered  information  about  each  town  and  its  terri- 
tories as  far  as  the  next  town,  set  up  their  boundary  stones 
and  assessed  their  tributes."  In  the  same  inscription  nothing 
is  so  strongly  emphasized  as  the  hereditary  position  of  the 
deputies  and  princes  of  the  districts.  "  My  mother,"  says 
Chnumhotep,  "  succeeded  to  the  possession  of  an  hereditary 
dignity  as  daughter  of  a  prince  of  the  district  of  Memphis. 


10  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

A  king,  Amenembat  II.,  led  me  as  a  son  of  a  noble  bouse  into 
tbe  beritage  of  tbe  princedom  of  my  motber's  fatber,  accord- 
ing to  tbe  greatness  of  bis  love  of  justice."* 

Cbnuinbotep  makes  special  boast  of  tbe  manner  in  wbicb 
be  displayed  bis  zeal  in  reverencing  tbe  dead.  "  I  did  good 
for  tbe  dwellings  of  reverence,"  tbat  is,  of  tbe  dead,  *'  and 
tbeir  bomes,  and  caused  my  portraits  to  be  brougbt  into  tbe 
sacred  dwelling,  and  bestowed  on  tbem  due  sacrifices  of  pure 
gifts,  and  appointed  tbe  priest  to  minister  to  tbem,  and  made 
him  ricb  witb  gifts  of  fields  and  peasants."  Anotber  business 
wbicb  engaged  bim  was  tbe  arrangement  of  tbe  festivals,  in 
wbicb  tbe  nnion  of  tbe  celestial  and  terrestrial  pbenomena  is 
represented  in  a  calendar.  He  quotes  annual  festivals — feast 
of  tbe  new  year,  feast  of  the  little  year,  feast  of  tbe  great  year, 
feast  of  the  end  of  tbe  year ;  then  monthly  festivals — feast  of 
tbe  great  burning,  feast  of  tbe  little  burning,  feast  of  tbe  five 
reckoning  days  of  the  year,  as  well  as  a  whole  series  of  other 
festivals,  which  represent  a  sort  of  Egyptian  fasti  analogous 
to  those  of  the  Romans.  The  priest  who  neglects  them  is 
to  be  counted  a  thing  of  naught,  and  his  son  shall  not  sit  upon 
bis  seat. 

For  some  time  Egypt  stood  firm  in  all  its  unity  and  homo- 
geneity. It  was  ricb  and  fertile,  tbe  granary  for  all  neigh- 
boring tribes  which  then  as  now  infested  its  borders.  These 
invaders  gradually  overpowered  tbe  defence.  The  aliens 
took  possession  of  tbe  Delta,  and  pushed  on  farther  still. 
They  were  tribes  of  Bedouin  Arabs.  In  tbe  sepulchral 
chambers  are  found  also  Phoenician  names.  It  is  an  assertion 
of  ancient  date  that  Canaanitish  tribes,  especially  Philistines, 
took  part  in  tbe  conquest.  By  later  generations  they  were 
called  Ilyksos,  by  wbicb  name  it  is  thought  Arabian  leaders 
are  meant.  These  are  tbe  Shepherd-kings  to  whom  legend 
assigns  the  possession  during  several  centuries  of  Lower 
Egypt.  But  hero  again  we  are  referred  to  doubtful  authori- 
ties.   On  the  monuments  the  name  of  Hyksos  bas  as  yet  not 


•  Inscription  translated  in  Brugsch, "  Gcsch.  Aegyptens  untcr  den  Phar- 
aonen,"  pp.  141, 142,  a  work  abounding  in  essential  additions  to  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject. 


THUTMOSIS  I.  11 

once  beeirfound.  It  is  undeniable  that  the  Egyptian  worship 
was  expelled  by  that  of  the  invaders.  The  god  Sutech,  whom 
they  principally  worshipped,  is  no  other  than  the  Baal  whom 
the  Canaanites  adored.  The  struggle  was  no  less  religious 
than  political.  From  a  fragmentary  papyrus  we  gather  that  a 
message  was  addressed  by  the  chieftain  of  the  shepherds  to  the 
Prince  of  the  South,  probably  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Thebaid, 
and  that  the  latter  declared  he  could  not  permit  any  other 
god  to  be  worshipped  in  the  land  save  Amon-Ra.  Out  of 
this  twofold  opposition  arose  a  w\ar,  through  which  Egypt 
gradually  relieved  herself  from  an  oppressive  and  alien  rule. 

Taken  by  itself,  this  event  was  not  one  of  universal  impor- 
tance; Egypt  simply  resumed  her  former  condition.  But  the 
great  achievement  had  roused  the  Egyptians  to  national  con- 
sciousness. They  had  now  but  one  king,  who  was  entitled  King 
of  the  Upper  and  Lower  Country.  They  had  everywhere  ex- 
pelled the  enemy.  They  now  entered  into  commercial  rela- 
tions with  the  Arabians.  They  felt  themselves  powerful  in 
arms  and  richly  provided  with  everything  necessary  for  war. 
Hence  it  came  about  that  Thutmosis  I.  formed  a  resolution  to 
avenge  upon  the  enemies  of  his  country  the  wrong  suffered 
in  tlie  epochs  immediately  preceding,  or,  as  an  inscription  ex- 
presses it,  *'  to  wash  his  heart."  Something  like  this  has  oc- 
curred, no  doubt,  at  all  times  and  places ;  but,  in  this  case,  the 
effort  was  attended  with  unusual  success.  It  brought  Egypt 
into  relations  with  countries  previousl}^  unknown  to  her,  and 
its  long-continued  influence  has  occasioned  great  revolutions 
in  the  world's  history.  Thutmosis  I.  belongs  to  that  brilliant 
scries  of  Pharaohs  which  is  reckoned  as  the  eighteenth  dy- 
nast3\  His  expeditions  were  especially  directed  against  Ru- 
ten,  under  which  name  we  are  to  understand  Palestine  and 
Syria. 

The  progress  of  the  movement  thus  spreading  over  those 
obscure  regions  is  interrupted  in  the  reign  of  Thutmosis  II., 
the  elder  son  of  Thutmosis  I. ;  the  thread  is  resumed  in  his 
daughter  Haschop.  She  established  herself  in  possession  of 
both  crowns,  and  appears  as  queen  or  lady  of  the  country 
under  the  name  Makara.  In  her  reign  is  to  be  placed  the 
first  sea  voyage  of  which  there  is  documentary  evidence  in 


12  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

the  primitive  history  of  the  world.  It  was  made~  to  Punt, 
the  land  of  balm,  the  land  from  which  the  Egyptians  derived 
their  origin,  and  which  now  submitted  to  the  double  crown. 
The  vessels  returned  laden  with  rich  and  rare  products  from 
that  region.  This  information  is  gathered  from  a  sculptural 
representation  illustrated  with  inscriptions.  The  stone  nar- 
rates a  story  that  appears  almost  fabulous,  but  the  fact  of  a 
close  connection  between  Egypt  and  Arabia  stands  out  too 
clearly  to  be  rejected.  To  the  royal  lady  Makara  belongs  ac- 
cordingly the  lirst  place  in  the  annals  of  navigation.  Her 
undertaking  preceded  by  many  centuries  the  voyages  of  Sol- 
omon and  of  the  Phoenicians  to  Ophir.  Secure  in  the  south, 
which  yielded  gold,  and  fortified  by  the  wealth  resulting  from 
his  commercial  relations,  Thutmosis  III.,  the  younger  brother 
of  Makara,  whose  reign  is  placed  in  the  first  half  of  the  six- 
teenth century  before  our  era,  was  enabled  to  enter  upon  a 
great  struggle,  the  most  important  of  all  tliat  Egypt  had  to 
undergo.  This  was  the  war  with  the  Retennu,  as  the  Egyp- 
tians called  the  Semitic  nations  to  the  east  and  north  of 
Egypt.  We  may  be  permitted  to  repeat  the  accounts  which 
are  found  in  the  inscriptions,  colored  though  they  are  by  par- 
tiality. The  first  maritime  expedition  finds  its  counterpart 
in  the  first  systematic  war  by  land  which  emerges  with  dis- 
tinctness from  the  mists  of  antiquity.  From  this  point  it 
begins  to  be  the  destiny  of  the  human  race  to  ripen  and  to 
develop  through  voyages  by  sea  and  wars  between  neighbor- 
ing races.  What  we  gather  gives  us  a  glimpse  at  once  into 
countries  of  peculiar  organization,  of  which  no  other  record 
is  extant,  and  into  a  campaign  of  tho  oldest  time  and  of  a 
very  singuhir  description. 

The  nations  assailed  Iiad  already  been  subdued  once,  but 
had  regained  their  liberty,  and,  in  particular,  the  neighboring 
tribes  of  the  Ruten  and  the  Phamicians,  with  the  exception  of 
Gaza,  had  assumed  a  hostile  attitude.  In  the  inscriptions  on 
tlie  temple  of  Amon  at  Thebes  the  first  and  principal  campaign 
of  Thutmosis  III.  is  depicted.  To  encounter  the  advancing 
monarch  the  tribes,  whose  localities  extend  as  far  as  tho  Land 
Naharain  (Mesopotamia),  with  the  Chalu  (Phoenicians)  and 
the  Kidu  (Chittim),  have  united  \u  one  large  host  and  taken 


THUTMOSIS  III.  13 

Megiddo."^  Contrary  to  the  advice  of  his  captains  and  trust- 
ing to  his  god,  Thutmosis  III.  cliooses  the  most  dangerous 
road,  in  order  to  push  his  march  farther.  His  captains  sub- 
mit to  his  will,  because  the  servant  is  bound  to  obey  his  mas- 
ter ;  all  their  zeal  is  now  devoted  to  following  their  king,  and 
at  the  same  time  protecting  him.  They  are  successful  in  the 
battle  so  far  as  to  remain  masters  of  the  field,  and  even  to 
capture  the  tent  of  the  hostile  king. 

The  Egyptians  utter  a  shout  of  joy  and  give  honor  to 
Amon,  the  lord  of  Thebes,  who  has  given  victory  to  his  son. 
All  the  neighboring  princes  come  with  their  children,  in 
order  to  make  supplication  before  the  king  and  to  entreat 
breath  for  their  nostrils — that  is,  life,  which  had,  as  it  were, 
been  forfeited  through  their  turbulent  rebellion.  The  mon- 
uments contain  a  list  of  the  countries  which,  as  it  is  said,  had 
hitherto  been  un invaded,  and  from  which  captives  were  now 
carried  away.  Among  these  Megiddo,  Damascus,  Beyrout, 
Taanach,  Jappa,  Mamre,  are  recognizable.  The  character  of 
the  war  is  learned  from  the  inscription  over  a  captain,  who 
says  of  himself,  "  When  his  Holiness  was  come  as  far  as  to 
the  land  Naharain,  I  carried  away  three  grown  persons  after 
a  hand-to-hand  conflict.  I  brought  them  before  his  Holiness 
as  prisoners  taken  alive."  In  the  Nubian  temple  of  Amada 
constructed  by  Thutmosis  III.  in  memory  of  all  his  prede- 
cessors and  all  the  gods,  he  boasts  of  his  victories,  and  of  the 
execution  done  on  his  antagonists.  He  has  with  his  own 
hand  and  with  his  battle  club  struck  down  seven  princes  who 
ruled  over  the  land  of  Thachis.  They  lie  gagged  in  the  bows 
of  the  royal  ship,  the  name  of  which  appears  as  Ship  of 
Amenemhotep  II.  (son  of  Thutmosis),  the  Sustainer  of  the 
Land.  Five  of  these  enemies  were  hung  on  the  outside  of 
the  w^all  of  Thebes.     Throughout  the  monuments  we  may 

*  Jerome  identifies  the  Campus  Megiddo  with  the  Campus  Magnus 
Legionis  ("  Onomasticum  urbium  ct  locorum  S.  Scripturae,"  in  Ugolini, 
"  Thesaurus  Antiq.  Sacrar."  vol.  v.  p.  ex.  "  Campus  Magnus  alio  nomine 
in  scriptura  etiam  dictus  campus  Esdrelon  sive  campus  Megiddo"). 
Legio,  however,  an  old  Roman  locality,  appears  in  the  later  name,  El- 
Ledjiin,  as  Reland  has  already  demonstrated  ("  Palsestina  e  monumentis 
vetcribus  illustrata,"  in  Ugolini  "  Thesaurus,"  etc.,  vol.  v.  p.  dcccxxxiv.). 


14  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

note  the  largess  liberally  bestowed  by  the  king  upon  his 
warriors. 

Tlie  preponderance  of  Egypt  over  her  neighbors  thus  es- 
tablislied  was  maintained  for  many  years.  Under  one  of  the 
succeeding  kings,  Tutanch-Anion,  we  see  on  one  side  a  negro 
queen  with  rich  gifts  from  her  country,  and  on  the  other 
the  red-skinned  princes  of  the  land  of  Ruten.  "  Grant  us," 
say  the  latter,  "  freedom  at  thy  hand.  Beyond  all  telling 
are  thy  victories,  and  there  is  no  enemy  in  thy  time.  The 
whole  earth  rests  in  peace." 

Once  more  the  regular  succession  of  the  royal  line  was 
interrupted.  King  Sethos  I.  of  the  nineteenth  dynasty  had 
the  hardest  struggles  to  undergo.  The  Cheta  appear  as  his 
most  conspicuous  opponents,  and  around  them  had  been 
formed  a  union  of.  nations  embracing  a  large  part  of  West- 
ern Asia.  The  seat  of  their  chief  was  at  Kadesh.*  He  had 
already  made  treaties  with  the  Egyptians,  which  he  is  accused 
of  having  broken.  Canaan,  the  name  of  which  appears  in 
the  inscriptions  dedicated  to  Sethos,  is  here  seen  in  a  charac- 
teristic state  of  balance  between  autonomy  and  dependence. 
It  appears  to  consist  of  isolated  cities  whose  kings  are  wor- 
shippers and  suppliants  of  Baal  in  his  several  forms,  and  of 
Astarte.  They  are  united  in  war  and  peace  with  the  Egyp- 
tians, but  otherwise  independent.  Sethos  is  led  tlirough  his 
pursuit  of  Bedouin  Arabs,  called  Schasn,  who  had  pushed  into 
Egypt,  into  the  district  of  Canaan.  Some  localities  are  men- 
tioned which  we  encounter  again  in  the  Israelitish  traditions. 
The  Schasu  and  the  Phoenician  peoples  who,  though  not 
united  among  themselves,  are  in  alliance  witli  tliem,  are  con- 
quered. Then  Sethos  turns  his  arms  against  Kadeoh.  The 
inscriptions  describe  him  not  only  as  very  bravo  and  eager 
for  the  fight,  but  even  as  bloodthirsty.  "  His  joy  is  to  take 
up  the  fight,  and  his  bliss  is  to  rush  into  the  battle,  llis  heart 
is  only  appeased  at  the  sight  of  the  streams  of  blood,  when  lie 
smites  down  the  heads  of  his  enemies."     His  two-hoi*so  char- 


♦  In  the  inscription  (Brugscli,  "  Gcsch.  Aeg}'ptcn8,"  etc.,  p.  462)  it  is 
said,  "This  is  the  going  up  of  Pharaoli,  when  he  went  to  conquer  the 
land  of  Kadcsh  in  the  land  of  the  Amorite.'* 


SETL  15 

iot  was  called  "Great  in  Yictorj."  He  directs  his  march 
against  Kadesh,  where  he  finds  the  herds  of  cattle  grazing 
before  the  gates ;  the  town  cannot  resist  his  unexpected  at- 
tack. After  this  he  is  for  the  first  time  forced  to  fi^ht  a 
pitched  battle.  The  Cheta,  a  beardless,  bright-corn plexioned 
people,  make  a  stout  resistance  with  their  war  chariots,  but 
are  nevertheless  conquered.  Thereupon  the  princes  and  el- 
ders of  the  adjoining  district  make  submission,  and  acknowl- 
edge the  divine  mission,  so  to  speak,  of  Sethos.  "  Thou  ap- 
pearest,"  they  say,  "  like  thy  father,  the  sun  god.  Men  live 
through  the  sight  of  thee." 

In  this  pictorial  history  we  see  the  inhabitants  of  Lebanon 
felling  the  lofty  cedars  to  build  a  great  ship  on  the  river  at 
Thebes,  and  likewise  for  the  lofty  masts  set  up  by  King  Seti 
at  the  temple  of  Amon  in  the  same  city.  The  inscriptions 
boast  that  "  he  has  set  his  frontiers  at  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  and  at  the  furthest  borders  of  the  riverland  Naharain, 
which  is  encompassed  by  the  Great  Sea."  On  his  return 
with  spoil  unprecedented,  Seti  is  received  with  festive  pomp 
and  with  the  cry,  "May  thy  days  endure  as  those  of  the  sun 
in  heaven  !  The  sun  god  himself  has  established  thy  bor- 
ders." Then  follows  a  list  of  the  conquered  countries,  Cheta, 
Naharain,  Upper  Euten  (Canaan),  Lower  Euten  (North 
Syria),  Singar  (the  Shinar  of  the  sacred  writings),  together 
with  Kadesh,  Megiddo,  and  the  Schasu  Arabians.  The  spoil 
is  presented  to  the  god  Amon.  "  The  captives  of  the  lands 
which  knew  not  Egypt"  appear  as  servants  and  handmaids  of 
the  god  Amon. 

As  soon,  however,  as  Seti  is  dead,  or,  as  the  Egyptians  ex- 
press it,  reunited  with  the  sun,  we  find  the  conquered  nations 
in  open  rebellion.  Eameses  IL,  Miamun,*  the  son  of  Sethos, 
was  compelled  in  his  very  first  campaign  to  direct  the  arms  of 
Egypt  against  Canaan  and  even  against  the  Cheta,  around 
whom  all  the  other  nations  slathered  once  more.     He  encoun- 


*  In  the  first  volume  of  Champollion,  "  Les  Monuments  de  I'Egypte  et 
de  la  Nubie,"  the  publication  of  which  we  owe  to  the  munificence  of  the 
French  government  under  Guizot,  are  found  several  representations  of 
Ramcses  (Scsostris). 


15  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

tered  tliein  in  a  battle  which  has  been  immortalized  as  well 
through  historic  inscriptions  as  through  an  heroic  poem  en- 
graved upon  the  walls — immortalized,  or  rather  preserved  to 
be  decipiiered  in  later  times.  The  more  historical  inscription 
on  the  temple  walls  relates  that  the  king  incurred  great  dan- 
ger through  the  shortcomings  of  his  officers.  He  had  re- 
ceived, we  are  told,  insufficient  information  about  the  enem}'', 
who  had  crossed  a  canal  to  the  south  of  Kadesh,  and  found 
himself  in  consequence  unexpectedly  face  to  face  with  them. 
They  surround  the  Pharaoh  with  his  escort.  In  this  peril 
the  king  puts  on  his  armor,  and,  unattended  as  he  is,  he  rush- 
es into  the  midst  of  the  hostile  bands  of  Cheta.  "  I  smote 
them  down,"  says  the  king,  "  and  hurled  them  into  the  waters 
of  Arantha  (Orontes) ;  I  extinguished  the  whole  host  of  them  ; 
and  yet  was  I  alone,  for  my  warriors  and  my  charioteers 
had  left  me  in  the  lurch.  Then  did  the  King  of  Cheta  turn 
his  hands  to  make  supplication  before  me." 

According  to  the  pictorial  history  in  the  temples  the  vari- 
ous divisions  of  the  forces  were  named  after  the  gods.  Plia- 
raoh's  tent  is  in  the  middle  of  the  camp,  and  beside  it  is  the 
migratory  tabernacle  of  the  chief  gods  of  Egypt.  The  in- 
scription appended  to  the  pictorial  history  can  scarcely  find 
words  in  which  to  describe  the  valor  of  the  king.  Still  more 
circumstantial  is  the  heroic  poem,  which  we  cannot  pass  over, 
since  it  throws  a  new  light  upon  the  conditions  and  ideas  of 
the  age.  According  to  this  poem  the  King  of  Cheta  had 
taken  with  him  all  the  nations  on  his  lino  of  march,  lie  liad 
possessed  himself  of  all  their  goods  and  chattels  to  give  to 
those  who  accompanied  him  to  the  war.  Ilis  horsemen  and 
chariots  were  numerous  as  the  sand.  Each  chariot  contained 
three  men,  and  the  foremost  heroes  united  their  strength  at  a 
single  point.  A  portion  of  the  Egyptian  troops  is  already 
defeated.  The  king,  who  thereupon  throws  himself  into  the 
fight  in  another  direction,  sees  himself  encompassed  by  2500 
two-horse  chariots.  "  Where  art  thou,  my  father  Amon  ?"  lie 
exclaims  in  his  distress.  The  god  is  reminded  of  all  the 
structures  raised  and  offices  performed  in  his  honor,  and  how 
"the  king  has  always  walked  and  stood  according  to  the  say- 
ing of  his  mouth."     His  prayer  finds  acceptance.     The  king 


.    EAMESES  II.     .  17 

hears  the  words  of  the  god.  "  I  have  hastened  hither  to  thee, 
Raraeses  Miamun.  It  is  I,  thy  father,  the  sun  god  Ea.  Yea, 
I  am  worth  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  united  in  one  place. 
I  am  the  lord  of  victory,  the  friend  of  valor." 

It  is  in  a  mytliologic  point  of  view  worthy  of  remark  that 
the  king  with  the  support  of  the  Egyptian  god  becomes  a 
match  for  the  gods  of  his  opponents;  he  is  as  it  were  a  Baal 
in  their  rear.  The  enemy  exclaims,  "  Yonder  is  no  man ! 
Woe !  woe !  He  who  is  among  us  is  Sutech.  The  glorious 
Baal  is  in  all  his  limbs."  The  king,  however,  blames  the  cow- 
ardice of  his  army.  "I  exalt  you  to  be  princes  day  after 
day,  I  set  the  son  in  the  inheritance  of  his  father  and  keep 
all  harm  far  from  the  land  of  the  Egyptians,  and  ye  desert 
me!  Such  servants  are  worthless.  I  was  alone  fighting 
them,  and  have  withstood  millions  of  aliens,  I  all  alone." 

The  next  day  the  battle  is  renewed ;  the  Egyptian  warriors 
rush  into  the  fray  "  even  as  the  falcon  swoops  upon  the  kids." 
Then  the  King  of  Cheta  makes  suit  to  Pharaoh  for  peace. 
"Thou  art" — thus  he  addresses  him — "Ra  Hormachu;  thou 
art  Sutech  the  glorious,  the  son  of  Nut,  Baal  in  his  time. 
Because  thou  art  the  son  of  Amon,  out  of  whose  loins  thou 
hast  sprung,  he  hath  altogether  given  the  nations  over  unto 
thee.  The  people  of  Egypt  and  tlie  people  of  Cheta  shall  be 
brethren,  and  serve  thee  together."  By  the  advice  of  the 
leaders  of  his  army,  the  charioteers  and  body-guard,  the  king 
accedes  to  this  prayer.  On  his  return  he  is  received  by  the 
god  Amon  himself  with  ardent  congratulations.  "May  the 
gods  grant  thee  jubilees  every  thirty  years,  infinitely  many, 
even  for  ever  and  ever  upon  the  throne  of  thy  father  Tum, 
and  may  all  lands  be  under  thy  feet." 

In  the  compact  then  concluded  the  King  of  Cheta  appears 
no  longer,  as  in  the  notices  of  the  war  itself,  as  tlie  "  miser- 
able," but  as  the  "great  king."  Kot  only  is  friendship  con- 
tracted between  the  kings  themselves,  but  it  is  said,  "  The 
sons'  sons  of  the  great  King  of  Cheta  shall  hold  together  and 
be  friends  with  the  sons'  sons  of  Rameses  Miamun,  the  great 
prince  of  Egypt."  The  compact  is  at  the  same  time  a  cove- 
nant between  the  gods  of  both  countries.  Those  of  Cheta  are 
all  named  after  the  several  cities,  Astarte  among  them.     The 

2 


IS  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

men,  as  it  were,  pledge  themselves  for  their  gods.  *^  He  who 
shall  observe  these  commandments  contained  in  tlie  silver 
table  of  the  covenant,  whether  he  be  of  the  people  of  the 
Cheta  or  of  the  people  of  the  Egyptians,  because  he  hath  not 
neglected  them,  the  host  of  the  gods  of  the  land  of  Cheta  and 
the  host  of  the  gods  of  the  land  of  Egypt  shall  surely  give 
him  his  reward  and  maintain  his  life;  for  him  and  for  his 
servants,  and  for  them  who  are  with  him  and  his  servants." 

If  the  monuments  up  to  this  point  have  presented  to  us 
nothing  but  barren  lists  of  names,  it  seems  indisputable  that 
here  they  set  before  our  eyes  a  genuine  fragment  of  ancient 
Egyptian  history  in  its  connection  with  Canaan.  The  narra- 
tive is  loaded  with  eulogistic  phraseology  and  interspersed 
with  religious  and  poetic  ideas,  but  it  contains  facts.  Wc 
recognize  not  only  the  encroaching  spirit  of  the  Egyptian 
power,  but  also  the  resistance  of  the  Canaanitish  races,  among 
which  Kadesli  plays  an  important  part. 

Until  these  inscriptions  were  deciphered  nothing  was  known 
of  the  facts  which  they  narrate.  On  the  other  hand,  antiquity 
has  transmitted  the  legend  of  a  great  conqueror,  Sesostris  by 
name,  who  made  the  Egyptian  arms  formidable  in  the  world 
far  and  wide.  We  must,  however,  give  the  inscriptions  the 
preference  over  the  legend.  Probably  the  latter  is  to  be  con- 
nected with  the  exploits  which  the  Egyptian  kings,  such  as 
Thutmosis  and  Sethos,  really  achieved  ;  but  it  was  a  story  not 
invented  till  later  times,  and  in  fact  not  without  the  conscious 
design  of  finding  a  parallel  to  other  universal  monarchies. 
Ab  it  appears  in  Herodotus,  its  purpose  is  to  oppose  to  the 
Persians  an  Egyptian  king  who  had  excelled  their  own.  Se- 
sostris is  said  to  have  conquered  the  Scythians,  an  attempt  in 
which  the  Persian  conquerors  had  failed.  In  the  later  form 
in  which  Diodorus,  who  had  himself  been  in  Egypt,  received 
the  story,  it  liad  been  so  far  amplified  that  even  tlie  glory  of 
Alexander  the  Great  paled  before  that  of  Sesostris,  to  whom 
was  ascribed  a  conquest  of  the  countries  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ganges.  Tlie  old  monuments  are  very  far  from  displaying 
80  wide  a  horizon.  Even  they  are  of  a  boastful  cliaractcr, 
and  we  might  perhaps  doubt  whether  the  exploits  of  the 
Egyptian  kings  were  really  attended  with  marked  success, 


BAAL-WORSHIP.  19 

since  they  lead  in  the  end  to  nothing  more  than  a  peaceful 
compact  with  the  enemies  of  the  country.  But  we  can  scarce- 
ly question  that  Egypt  too  had  her  epoch  of  successful  cam- 
paigns and  warlike  actions,  the  influence  of  which  was  very 
considerable.  The  edifices  of  Luxor,  planned  on  a  vast  scale, 
and  executed  with  great  genius,  bear  witness  to  the  power  of 
Egypt  at  this  epoch. 

Baal,  however,  and  the  aggregate  of  nations  which  wor- 
shipped him  were  not  completely  subdued.  The  religion  of 
Baal,  which  had  spread  from  the  countries  near  the  Euphrates 
over  a  great  portion  of  Western  Asia,  was  as  much  impreg- 
nated with  elements  of  culture  as  the  Egyptian  faith.  The 
principal  distinction  may  possibly  have  been  in  the  fact  that 
the  latter,  as  depending  upon  the  physical  conformation  of 
the  Nile  valley,  wore  a  local  character,  while  the  Babylonian 
was  a  religion  of  universal  nature  and  adapted  to  commercial 
peoples.  But  astronomical  studies  and  observations  were  a 
possession  common  to  both,  and  the  Chaldeans,  whose  special 
glory  it  is  that  tliey  laid  the  first  foundations  of  astronomy, 
claimed  to  be  a  colony  of  Egyptians.  It  has  been  observed 
that  the  pure  atmosphere,  enjoyed  alike  in  Babylon  and  in 
Egypt,  renders  easy  the  observation  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
Among  other  advantages  it  removes  the  difiiculty  which  else- 
where results  from  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  upon  the 
water,  the  regular  flow  of  which  is  employed  in  the  measure- 
ment of  time.  To  this  is  to  be  traced  the  close  resemblance 
between  the  two  nations  in  many  things  which  regulate  the 
intercourse  of  daily  life,  especially  in  weights  and  measures. 
The  duodecimal  system  in  liquid  measures,  which  is  found 
elsewhere,  appears  to  be  derived  from  the  Babylonians.  The 
division  of  day  and  night  into  twelve  hours  is  to  be  traced, 
according  to  all  appearance,  to  the  same  origin.  The  re- 
ligion of  Baal  had  two  central  points,  one  in  Tyre,  the  other 
in  Babylon.  Baal  is  the  sun,  Astarte  the  moon,  and  the 
planets  combine  with  these  two  to  form  a  single  system.  It 
is  indisputable  that  all  this  is  closely  dependent  on  the  obser- 
vation of  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  contains  a  principle  of  a 
cosmogonic  if  not  of  a  theogonic  character. 

The  powers  of  nature  are  regarded  at  once  as  sidereal  and 


20  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

terrestrial ;  with  the  sun,  moon,  and  the  host  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  appears  the  earth  as  the  mother  of  all.  A  distinction, 
however,  is  made  between  the  creative  and  destructive  powers 
and  between  the  male  and  female  principle,  which  incessantly 
act  and  react  on  each  other,  and  from  which  all  things  are  de- 
rived. This  view  of  the  universe  might  be  regarded  as  the 
oldest  of  all,  though  the  first  step  is  immediately  accompanied 
by  a  second,  the  localization,  that  is,  of  these  divinities  in  the 
separate  provinces.  That  the  Babylonian  mythology  has 
many  afiinities  with  that  of  Upper  Asia  and  even  India  may 
be  explained  by  geographical  circumstances.  Thus  the  super- 
stition of  the  Phoenicians  was  blended  with  the  religions  of 
Africa  and  Europe,  with  which  their  voyages  by  sea  brought 
them  into  contact.  In  the  whole  conception,  regarded  as  a 
view  of  nature,  there  is  something  magnificent  and  even  pro- 
found ;  but  it  is  an  idea  which  it  is  difficult  to  grasp.  Out 
of  the  separate  mythologies  the  Emperor  Julian  at  a  time  of 
distinct  antagonism  between  monotheistic  and  polytheistic 
doctrines  wove  a  system  full  of  meaning  and  significance. 

With  this,  however,  the  popular  conceptions  have  very  little 
to  do.  These  religions  were  at  the  same  time  idolatries,  and 
such  is  the  form  they  assume  to  the  outer  world.  It  may  no 
doubt  be  true  that  Baal  was  not  thought  of  without  reference 
to  a  Supreme  Being  presiding  over  all  things.  It  is  possible 
too  that  the  circle  of  the  stars  signifies  their  rotation,  which 
itself  implies  a  divine  energy.  Thus  the  priests  may  have 
conceived  the  matter.  But  in  the  worship  of  tho  people 
other  motives  come  into  prominence.  Baal  is  at  the  same 
time  the  god  of  fire,  and,  as  such,  formidable  and  destructive; 
to  escape  the  violence  of  this  element  sacrifices  are  offered 
him.  Moloch,  who  appeal's  also  under  the  name  Baal,  re- 
quires victims  in  the  first  stage  of  their  development,  creat- 
ures still  at  the  breast,  the  first-born  of  human  beings  included. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  the  expression  **  to  pass  through 
the  fire  to  Moloch  "  is  implied  the  religious  conception  of  the 
union  of  the  created  being  with  the  godhead,  and  we  are  not 
inclined  to  deny  that  this  notion  is  associated  with  the  cosmic 
idea  of  the  final  conflagration  of  the  universe,  which  is  to  be 
the  dissolution  of  all  thinjrs.    Nevertheless  this  docs  not  alter 


JEHOVAH.  21 

the  fact  that  the  worship  of  Moloch  degenerated  into  a  hid- 
eous idolatry,  which  debased  the  nations  devoted  to  it,  and 
never  allowed  the  idea  of  man's  freedom  and  mastery  over 
his  own  fate  to  develop  itself.  Learned  investigations  ren- 
der it  doubtful  whether  Astarte,  the  goddess  who  is  seen 
with  her  spear  in  her  hand  and  with  the  attribute  of  her  star, 
is  to  be  identified  with  those  deities  whose  rites  were  cele- 
brated amid  sexual  excesses;  whether  the  Yenus  Urania  who 
is  associated  with  the  cultus  of  Astarte  was  an  entirely  sen- 
sual divinity,  an  opinion  which  the  balance  of  evidence  sup- 
ports, or  in  reality  quite  exempt  from  such  taint.  Even  in 
Babylon,  and  still  more  at  Ascalon,  the  worship  of  the  gods 
was  combined  with  customs  revolting  to  every  feeling  of 
morality,  and  deeply  degrading  to  the  nature  of  woman. 
The  frenzied  and  bewildering  orgies  connected  with  this  con- 
ception of  the  deity  spread  from  the  two  centres  named  above 
and  took  possession  of  the  world.  The  most  conspicuous  ser- 
vice which  natural  science  has  rendered  is  that  it  has  gradual- 
ly dissipated  the  mist  which  these  forms  of  nature  worship 
were  spreading  over  the  world.  This  result,  however,  it 
could  never  have  achieved  unaided.  It  is  therefore  a  capital 
error  to  suppose  an  opposition  between  natural  science  and 
religion.  Without  a  pure  religion,  responding  to  the  needs 
of  the  human  spirit,  and  really  accepted  and  believed,  the 
scientific  knowledge  of  nature  and  of  man  would  not  have 
been  possible  at  all.  The  spiritual  antithesis  to  Amon-Ea 
and  Baal,  as  well  as  to  Apis  and  Moloch,  is  found  in  the  idea 
expressed  in  the  name  Jehovah,  as  announced  by  Moses. 

The  history  of  the  creation  in  Genesis  is  not  merely  a  cos- 
mogonic  account  of  primitive  date,  but  above  all  else  it  is  an 
express  counter -statement  opposed  to  the  conceptions  of 
Egypt  and  of  Babylon.  The  latter  were  formed  in  regions 
either  naturally  fertile  or  early  animated  by  commercial  in- 
tercourse; the  Mosaic  idea  emerges  upon  the  lonely  heights 
of  Sinai,  which  no  terrestrial  vicissitudes  have  ever  touched, 
and  where  nothing  interposes  between  God  and  the  world. 

With  the  Egyptians  and  Babylonians  everything  is  de- 
veloped from  the  innate  powers  of  the  sun,  the  stars,  and  the 
earth   itself.     Jehovah,  on   the   other   hand,  appears   as  the 


22  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

Creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  as  both  the  originator  and  the 
orderer  of  the  world.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  the  assump- 
tion of  a  chaos,  or,  as  it  is  given  in  a  more  modern  version,  a 
primeval  flood,  was  not  completely  excluded ;  but  this  con- 
ception itself  rested  on  the  idea  of  a  previous  creation.  The 
creation  of  man  is  the  point  in  which  all  centres.  With  the 
Egyptians  man  is  not  distinguished  in  kind  from  the  sun 
from  which  he  issues  rather  as  a  product  than  as  a  creature, 
and  the  same  is  tme  of  the  Babylonian  cosmogony,  where 
the  divine  element  in  man  is  only  revealed  through  the  blood 
of  a  God  chancing  to  fall  down  to  earth.  All  creatures  are 
generically  the  same  with  man.  In  the  Mosaic  cosmogony, 
on  the  other  liand,  the  elements,  plants,  and  animals  are  called 
into  being  by  a  supreme  intelligent  Will,  which  creates  in 
the  last  place  man  after  His  own  image.  The  divergence  is 
immeasurable.  God  appears  prominently  as  a  Being  inde- 
pendent of  the  created  world ;  He  appears  to  the  prophet  in 
the  fire,  but  yet  is  not  the  fire ;  He  is  in  the  Word  which  is 
lieard  out  of  the  fire.  Speech  is  bestowed  upon  man,  who 
gives  each  created  thing  its  name.  In  this  his  pre-eminence 
consists;  for  he  alone,  as  Locke  has  remarked,  possesses  an 
innate  faculty  of  framing  an  abstract  idea  of  species,  whereas 
other  creatures  can  grasp  nothing  beyond  the  individual. 
While  the  descent  of  some  from  the  sun  and  others  from  the 
stars  establishes  a  difference  between  man  and  man,  creation 
by  the  breath  of  God  makes  all  men  equal.  Under  the  God- 
head as  independent  of  the  created  world  the  dignity  thus 
implanted  in  men  appears,  it  might  almost  be  said,  as  a  prin- 
ciple of  equality. 

In  a  passage  which  criticism  asserts  to  belong  to  the  oldest 
form  of  the  original  account,  to  man  is  assigned  lordship  over 
the  fishes  of  the  sea,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  all  beasts  which 
move  upon  the  earth.  This  is  a  conception  distinct  from  that 
prevalent  in  Egypt,  where  the  bull  is  woi-shipped  with  divine 
honors  as  symbolizing  the  creative  power  of  nature.  The 
idea  of  Jehovah,  far  from  having  arisen  from  nature  worship, 
is  set  up  in  opposition  to  it.  The  Mosaic  history  of  the 
creation  is  a  manifesto  against  the  idolatry  which  was  pre- 
dominant in  the  world.     It  is  this  opposition  which  gives  to 


ABRAHAM.  23 

the  national  tradition  of  the  Hebrews,  beyond  doubt  an  in- 
estimable relic  from  times  of  remotest  antiquity,  its  principal 
value. 

Tlie  Hebrew  memories  cling  to  the  ancestor  of  the  race, 
who  migrates  with  his  flocks  and  herds  from  Northern  Meso- 
potamia into  Canaan,  and  forms  a  connection  witli  the  Hit- 
tites,  the  most  important  of  the  inhabitants  of  Canaan  at  that 
time,  in  consequence  of  which  a  portion  of  land  is  transferred 
to  him,  by  purchase,  for  a  sepulchre.  Abraham  receives,  as 
the  progenitor  of  a  group  of  nations,  a  widespread  reverence 
which  has  endured  for  centuries  upon  centuries.  He  is  not, 
like  the  Egyptian  kings,  himself  a  god,  but  he  is  a  friend  of 
God.  In  this  friendship  he  lays  tjie  foundations  of  his  peo- 
ple. The  traditional  account  has  preserved  some  traits  of 
him  in  which  the  ideas  of  the  oldest  religion  in  Canaan,  be- 
fore it  became  the  national  religion,  are  easily  recognized. 

Lot,  brother's  sou  to  Abraham,  ancestor  of  the  tribes  of 
Moab  and  Ammon,  and,  like  Abraham  himself,  a  shepherd- 
prince  and  tribal  chieftain,  becomes  embroiled  in  the  wars  of 
the  petty  princes  in  whose  district  he  is  settled,  and  is  led 
away  captive  by  the  conqueror.  The  action  of  Abraham  in 
consequence  prefigures  the  later  independence  of  Israel. 
Though  dwelling  in  the  dominions  of  another  prince,  he  takes 
up  arms  with  his  family  and  dependents,  and,  overthrowing 
the  victorious  enemy,  frees  his  brother's  son  and  restores  him 
to  his  home.  I  do  not  venture  to  pronounce  the  whole  of 
this  story  to  be  historical ;  to  do  so  would  be  to  substantiate 
too  much  that  is  miraculous  and  incredible.  The  essential 
point  to  note  in  the  legend  is  the  imposing  figure  which  the 
patriarch  presents  among  the  native  inhabitants  of  Canaan 
and  the  new  intruders.  With  this,  however,  is  associated  an- 
other trait,  which  indicates  a  conception  of  more  than  merely 
national  range.  There  is  a  chief,  Melchizedek,  whose  author- 
ity extends  over  all  these  tribes  and  their  princes.  He  blesses 
Abraham  and  brings  him  bread  and  w^ine.  He  is  a  priest  of 
El  Eljon,  the  Most  High  God,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth. 
The  religion  he  professes  is  identical  with  that  which  the 
Israelites  have  always  maintained.  Under  Abraham  it  ap- 
pears as  a  higher  religion  of  universally  recognized  authority. 


24  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

Abraham  gives  tithe  to  the  priest  king,  wliile  the  latter 
praises  God,  who  has  given  Abraham  the  victory.  But,  with 
the  worshippers  of  Baal  surrounding  him  on  every  side,  even 
Abraham  is  tempted  to  give  in  his  adherence  to  this  system 
of  worship,  and,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  to  sacrifice  his 
son.  lie  has  gone  so  far  as  to  prepare  to  conform  to  this 
usage,  when  the  Most  High  God  prevents  by  a  miracle  the 
completion  of  the  sacrifice.  The  narrative  of  the  victory  and 
blessing  of  Abraham,  and  of  the  sacrifice  thus  frustrated,  are 
the  most  splendid  episodes  in  the  ^ve  books  of  Moses,  and 
among  the  most  beautiful  ever  penned. 

The  essential  truth  which  they  embody  is  that  in  the  midst 
of  the  'Canaanitish  populf^tion  a  powerful  tribe  arose,  which 
clung  tenaciously  to  the  idea  of  the  Most  High  God  and  re- 
jected every  temptation  to  pay  honor  to  Baal-Moloch.  The 
tribe  which  under  Jacob,  the  son  of  Isaac  and  grandson  of 
Abraham,  grew  into  a  great  people,  had  soon  to  learn  that 
there  was  no  further  sojourn  for  them  in  Canaan.  They 
turned  towards  the  fertile  land  of  Egypt,  with  which  Abra- 
liam  had  already  had  relations,  and  where,  so  runs  the  story, 
his  son  Joseph,  sold  into  Egypt  by  his  brethren,  had  risen  to 
a  high  station.  Instances  of  similar  success  are  found  in  the 
Egyptian  inscriptions.  The  whole  tribe  found  a  refuge  in 
the  land  of  Goshen,  where  under  the  Pliaraoh  it  enjoyed 
peace  and  could  pasture  its  flocks.  After  a  long  sojourn, 
however,  the  duration  of  which  we  cannot  determine,  the 
posterity  of  Israel  and  his  sons  became  aware  that  they  could 
not  tarry  here  either  without  completely  forfeiting  all  they 
could  call  their  own.  The  tribe  was  compelled  to  services 
which,  though  conformable  to  the  religion  and  constitution  of 
Egypt,  were  oppressive  to  all  who  did  not  acknowledge  its 
authority. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Moses  appeared  among  the  people 
of  Israel.  Tradition  consistently  asserts  that  he  was  educated 
as  an  Egyptian  in  the  house  of  a  Pharaoh,  and  that,  being  un- 
able any  longer  to  tolerate  the  acts  of  violence  to  which  his 
countrymen  were  exposed,  he  fell  into  a  dispute  on  the  sub- 
ject with  the  natives  of  the  country,  slow  one  of  them,  and 
then  took  to  flight.     Ho  was  received  by  the  Shepherd-kings 


MOSES.  25 

in  the  neighborhood  of  Egypt,  whose  tribes  were  related  to  his 
own,  and  pastured  with  them  his  flocks  on  Sinai.  Eusebius 
says  that  he  meditated  philosopliy  in  the  desert,  and  many 
have  felt  that  wonderful  exaltation  which  man  experiences 
when  he  finds  himself  in  a  wild  and  lonely  region  face  to 
face  with  God.  This  exaltation  reached  its  highest  flight  in 
Moses,  when  an  exile  for  his  people's  sake. 

Here  the  God  of  his  fathers  appears  to  him ;  he  sees  Him 
not,  for  he  shrinks  from  the  vision,  but  he  hears  Him,  and  re- 
ceives the  announcement  of  His  name  in  the  sublime  words, 
*'I  am  that  I  am."  The  Eternal  Being  opposes  Himself  to 
the  phantom  to  whose  service  the  world  is  devoted.  The 
nation  receives  with  joy  the  announcement  of  this  manifesta- 
tion. As  in  Canaan  the  service  of  Baal  had  been  rejected  for 
that  of  the  Most  High  God,  so  here  in  Egypt  arose  the  desire 
to  find  in  the  Most  High  God  deliverance  from  the  oppressive 
yoke  of  the  Egyptian  religion  and  of  the  monarchy  of  Thebes, 
the  visible  manifestation  of  Amon-Ra.  The  Israelites  asked 
from  Pharaoh  a  short  leave  of  absence,  in  order  to  worship 
their  God  in  the  place  consecrated  to  Him.  The  permission 
was  refused,  and  their  migration  began.  The  hymn  of  praise 
in  which  the  miracle  of  the  Exodus  is  extolled  treats  of  the 
incident  with  great  simplicity.  "  Pharaoh's  chariots  and  his 
host  He  hath  cast  into  the  sea ;  his  chosen  captains  also  are 
drowned  in  the  Red  Sea." 

Thus  they  reached  those  primeval  heights  where  Moses 
had  first  spoken  with  the  God  of  their  fathers.  It  was  his 
purpose  to  guide  the  people  to  that  place  where  he  had  him- 
self learned  to  look  beyond  the  horizon  of  the  Egyptian  forms 
of  worship.  The  people  encamped  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain, brought  thither,  as  the  voice  of  God  says,  by  Himself 
upon  eagles'  wings,  and  the  great  event  approached  its  com- 
pletion. The  God  who  sa3's  of  Himself,  "  The  whole  earth 
is  mine,"  purposes  nevertheless  to  regard  this  nation  as  His 
especial  propert}^,  and  to  fashion  it  into  a  kingdom  of  priests. 
The  people  draw  near,  adorned  and  prepared  as  befits  the 
solemnity.  From  the  foot  of  Sinai,  after  an  ascent  of  some 
duration,  the  plateau  of  Er-Rahah  expands  to  the  view,  shut 
in  by  rugged  mountains  of  dark  granite,  crested  by  wild. 


26  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

jagged  summits  of  rock  towering  one  above  tlie  otlier — a 
scene  of  majestic  and  commanding  solitude,  to  which  the 
perpendicular  wall  of  Horeb,  from  twelve  to  fifteen  hundred 
feet  in  height,  forms  a  dark  and  awful  barrier.*  The  people 
are  gathered  in  the  valley,  a  solemn  and  mysterious  region 
shut  out  from  the  world  by  mountains,  and  here  the  will  of 
God  is  revealed. 

God  speaks  and  says,  ^*  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  which  have 
brought  thee  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of 
bondage.  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me.  Thou 
shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any  graven  image,  or  any  likeness 
of  anything  that  is  in  heaven  above,  or  that  is  in  the  earth 
beneath,  or  that  is  in  the  water  under  the  earth :  thou  shalt 
not  bow  down  thyself  to  them,  nor  serve  them."  It  would 
be  impossible  to  express  more  sharply  the  contrast  with 
Egypt,  where  the  worship  of  numerous  deities  prevailed,  each 
of  which  was  nevertheless  intended  to  be  an  image  of  divine 
power.  In  this  multiplicity  of  forms  polytheism  lost  sight 
of  the  very  idea  out  of  which  it  had  been  developed,  and  was 
transformed  into  idolatry.  In  opposition  to  this  was  revealed 
the  absolute  idea  of  the  pure  Godhead,  independent  of  all 
accident  in  the  mode  of  its  conception. 

The  Decalogue  is  the  outcome  of  this  thouo^ht.  It  has 
been  held  to  be  a  defect  that  the  moral  law  in  the  Decalogue 
is  regarded  as  the  command  of  the  Legislator.  This,  liow- 
ever,  is  an  essential  and  necessary  feature;  no  distinction 
could  be  made  between  religion,  moral  laws,  and  civil  institu- 
tions. The  sabbath,  which  was  substituted  for  the  innumer- 
able festivals  of  the  Egyptian  nature  worship,  is  associated 
with  the  creation  as  exhibited  in  the  Mosaic  cosmogony. 
The  fact  that  even  slaves  are  permitted  to  rest  on  the  sab- 
bath, implies  the  conception  of  a  divine  polity  embracing  all 
mankind,  and  involves  a  kind  of  emancipation  from  personal 
thraldom.     These  clauses  are  followed  by  the  simplest  civil 

♦Robinson's  "  Palestine,"  i.  148.  In  Ebers,  "  Durch  Gosen  zuni  Sinai," 
p.  889  sq.,  the  reader  will  find  that  several  other  hypotheses  have  l>een 
formed  as  to  the  locality  of  the  giving  of  the  Law.  I  give  the  prefer- 
ence to  that  of  the  enterprising  American,  whose  sober  judgment  is  un- 
biassed by  preconceived  opinions. 


THE  MOSAIC  POLITY.  27 

enactments.  A  blessing  is  attached  to  the  commandment  to 
honor  parents  as  the  fundamental  principle  of  family  life. 
Marriage  is  held  especially  sacred ;  while  life  and  property 
are  declared  equally  inviolable. 

Thus,  under  the  immediate  protection  of  God,  individual 
life  enjoys  those  rights  and  immunities  which  are  the  founda- 
tion of  all  civil  order.  That  which  modern  states  call  their 
constitution  is  but  the  development  of  this  idea,  this  need  of 
security  for  life  and  property.  The  Mosaic  polity  involves 
an  opposition  to  kingship  and  its  claim  to  be  an  emanation 
from  the  Deity.  The  contrast  with  Egypt  is  here  most  deep- 
ly marked.  No  more  noble  inauguration  of  the  first  principles 
of  conduct  in  human  society  could  have  been  conceived. 
Egypt  receives  additional  importance  from  the  fact  that  her 
tyranny  developed  in  the  emigrant  tribes  a  character  and 
customs  in  direct  contrast  to  her  own.  No  materials  for  a 
history  of  the  human  race  could  have  been  found  in  the  un- 
broken continuity  of  a  national  nature  worship.  The  first 
solid  foundation  for  this  is  laid  in  the  revolt  against  nature 
worship — in  other  words,  in  monotheism.  On  this  principle 
is  built  a  civil  society  which  is  alien  to  every  abuse  of  power. 


Chapteb  II. 

THE  TWELVE   TRIBES   OF   ISRAEL. 

We  have  thus  three  great  forms  of  religious  worship  ap- 
pearing side  by  side — the  local  religion  of  the  Egyptians,  the 
universal  nature  worship  of  Baal,  and  the  intellectual  God- 
head of  Jehovah.  Like  the  others,  the  worship  of  Jehovah 
required,  and  in  fact  possessed,  a  national  basis.  But  that 
basis  was  supplied  by  a  nation  which  had  scarcely  escaped 
from  the  bondage  of  the  Egyptians,  and  which  was  neglected 
and  unrecognized  by  the  rest  of  the  world.  Moses  had  a 
continual  struggle  to  maintain  with  the  obstinacy  of  the  mul- 
titude, who  began  to  regret  Egypt  after  their  departure.  It 
was  his  achievement  that  the  nation,  so  feeble  at  the  time  of 
its  escape  from  Egypt,  developed  after  a  series  of  years,  long 
indeed,  but  not  too  long  for  such  a  result,  into  a  genuine 
military  power,  well  inured  to  arms.  Yet  the  first  generation 
had  to  die  out  before  the  Israelites  could  entertain  the  hope 
of  acquiring  a  territory  of  their  own.  A  claim  was  sug- 
gested by  the  sojourn  of  the  patriarchs  in  the  land  of  Canaan 
during  which  they  had  obtained  possessions  of  their  own. 
Moses  himself  led  them  to  make  the  claim.  This  implies  no 
hostility  to  Egypt.  The  direction  taken  was  in  reality  the 
same  as  that  adopted  by  the  Pharaohs,  who  failed,  however, 
to  reach  the  goal.  In  Uie  endeavor  to  picture  to  ourselves 
this  struggle  we  are  embarrassed  rather  than  aided  by  the 
religious  coloring  of  the  narrative.  The  Most  High  God,  the 
Creator  of  the  world,  was  now  considered  as  the  national  God 
of  the  Hebrews,  and  justly  so;  for  without  the  Hebrews  the 
worship  of  Jehovah  would  liavo  had  no  place  in  the  world. 
The  war  of  the  Israelites  is  represented  as  the  war  of  Jehovah. 
The  tradition  is  interwoven  with  miracles.  The  aged  seer 
on  the  enemy's  side  is  compelled,  against  his  will,  to  bless 


CANAAN.  29 

Israel,  instead  of  cursing  him ;  the  Israelites  cross  the  Jordan 
dry-shod ;  an  angel  of  the  Lord  appears  to  the  captain  of  the 
host  in  the  character  of  a  constant  though  invisible  ally;  the 
walls  of  Jericho  fall  at  the  blast  of  trumpets.  A  disaster 
soon  afterwards  experienced  is  traced  to  the  fact  that  a  por- 
tion of  the  spoil — gold,  silver,  copper,  and  iron — destined  for 
Jehovah  has  been  kept  back  and  buried  by  one  who  has 
broken  his  oath.  The  crime  is  terribly  avenged  upon  the  cul- 
prit and  his  whole  house,  and  thereupon  one  victory  follows 
after  another.  In  the  decisive  battle  with  the  Amorites, 
Jehovah  prolongs  the  day  at  the  prayer  of  the  captain  of 
the  host.  The  conquest  is  regarded  as  a  victory  of  Jeho- 
vah himself,  whose  name  would  otherwise  have  once  more 
been  effaced. 

Besides  its  religious  aspect^  the  event  has  another  and  a 
purely  human  side,  which  the  historicil  inquirer,  whose  busi- 
ness it  is  to  ex.plain  events  by  human  motives,  is  bound  to 
bring  into  prominence.  It  is  especially  to  be  noticed  that 
the  condition  of  the  land  of  Canaan  as  depicted  in  the  Book 
of  Joshua  corresponds  in  the  main  to  the  statements  respect- 
ing it  in  tha  Egyptian  inscriptions.  The  country  was  oc- 
cupied by  a  number  of  independent  tribes,  under  princes 
who  called  themselves  kings.  The  necessity  of  combined 
resistance  to  the  Egyptian  invasion  united  them  for  a  time ; 
but  the  danger  was  no  sooner  over  than  they  relapsed  into 
their  former  independence.  They  were  compelled,  however, 
to  make  a  combined  effort  against  Israel,  who,  though  for- 
merly unable  to  maintain  his  position  among  them,  now  re- 
turned in  a  later  generation  to  take  possession  of  his  old 
abode — much  as  the  Ileracleidfe  did  at  a  later  date  in  Pelo- 
ponnesus, though,  as  we  shall  see,  with  some  essential  differ- 
ence. The  Israelitish  tribes  had  developed  into  a  brave  and 
numerous  confederacy  of  warriors,  united  and  inspired  by 
the  idea  of  their  God,  whom  they  formerly  worshipped  in 
Canaan,  and  who  had  brought  them  out  of  Egypt.  Even 
under  Moses  they  were  strong  enough  to  seek  an  encounter 
with  one  of  the  most  powerful  tribes  upon  its  own  soil.  This 
was  the  tribe  of  the  Amorites,  already  mentioned  also  in  con- 
nection with  the  struggle  with  Egypt. 


30  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

The  immediate  occasion  for  this  attack  was  found  by  Moses 
in  the  division  between  the  Amorites  and  Moabites,  tlie  latter 
of  whom  claimed  a  nearer  tribal  relationship  to  the  Hebrews 
than  the  former.  The  Amorite  domain  consisted  of  the  two 
petty  kingdoms  of  Heshbon  and  Bashan.  In  the  language 
of  an  ancient  lyric  poem,  "lire  had  gone  forth  from  Ilcshbon 
and  had  wasted  Moab ;"  in  other  words,  Moab  had  been  em- 
broiled in  a  war  with  the  Amorites,  in  which  he  had  been 
defeated.  In  this  contest  Moses  interfered.  The  King  of 
Heshbon,  who  marched  with  his  whole  people  to  encounter 
him,  suffered  a  defeat.  Og,  King  of  Bashan,  bestirred  him- 
self too  late ;  he  also  was  conquered.  A  tradition  found  in 
Josephns  affirms  that  the  invading  forces  from  the  desert 
owed  their  superiority  over  their  enemies  to  the  use  of  slings. 
The  victory  was  followed  by  the  sacking  of  the  towns  and  the 
occupation  of  the  country.  Those  tribes  were  treated  with 
especial  severity  which  had  anciently  been  in  league  with 
Israel,  such  as  the  Midianites.  Moab  himself  was  already 
in  dread  of  Israel.  Thus  Moses  subdued  the  country  beyond 
the  Jordan,  and  formed  a  plan  according  to  which  the  region 
which  he  claimed  for  the  tribes  was  to  be  divided  among  them. 

It  was  his  aim  that  the  idea  by  the  power  of  which  he  had 
led  them  out  from  Egypt  should  continue  to  form  the  central 
point  of  their  spiritual  and  political  life.  Moses  is  the  most 
exalted  figure  in  all  primitive  history.  The  thought  of  God 
as  an  intellectual  Being,  independent  of  all  material  exist- 
ence, was  seized  by  him  and,  so  to  speak,  incorporated  in  the 
nation  which  ho  led.  Not,  of  course,  that  the  nation  and  the 
idea  were  simply  coextensive.  The  idea  of  the  Most  High 
God  as  lie  revealed  himself  on  Iloreb  is  one  for  all  times 
and  all  nations;  an  idea  of  a  pure  and  infinite  Being,  which 
admits  of  no  such  limitation,  but  which  nevertheless  inspires 
every  decree  of  the  legislator,  every  undertaking  of  the  cap- 
tain of  the  host.  Moses  may  bo  called  the  schoolmaster  of 
his  people ;  he  redeems  them  from  slavery,  organizes  them  for 
peace  and  war,  and  then  leads  them  out  of  Egypt  under  the 
inducement  of  the  promise  that  they  shall  obtain  possession 
of  their  ancient  inheritance.  It  is  thus  that  tradition  repre- 
sents him.     But  it  was  not  his  privilege  to  complete  the  con- 


JOSHUA.  31 

quest  of  the  country  which  he  had  designed  and  commenced. 
He  laid  his  hands  upon  Joshua  the  son  of  Kun,  wlio  executed 
the  task  for  wliich  he  is  thus  designated.  Amon-Ea  had 
abandoned  the  struggle  against  Baal,  it  being  impossible  that 
a  religion  under  local  limitations  should  bring  the  world  be- 
neath its  sway.  The  situation  was  completely  changed  when 
a  newly  disciplined  host,  carrying  with  it  the  tabernacle  as 
the  visible  token  of  its  covenant  w^ith  Jehovah,  undertook 
the  struggle.  It  was,  however,  inevitable  that  at  the  outset, 
in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  age,  everything  should 
be  effected  at  the  sword's  point.  The  Israelites  made  war 
much  as  the  Egyptians  did,  only  perhaps  with  more  violence 
and  less  mercy. 

Let  us  trace  the  principal  incidents  of  this  great  enterprise. 
Joshua  crossed  the  Jordan  without  opposition,  and  halted 
near  Gilgal,  where  he  renewed  the  rite  of  circumcision  accord- 
ing to  the  example  of  Abraham.  The  practice  was  of  a  nat- 
ure to  distinguish  the  people  from  the  Canaanites ;  it  was  in 
reality  an  Egyptian  rite,  for  the  Jews  adopted  from  the 
Egyptians  everything  which  was  compatible  with  a  religion 
in  which  nature  worship  had  no  part.  The  Jewish  army  was 
superior  in  numbers,  in  military  training,  and  the  impulse 
supplied  by  a  great  idea.  Jericho,  the  great  city  towards 
which  Moses  had  turned  his  dying  eyes,  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Joshua.  The  other  city,  Ai,  was  conquered  by  means  of  an 
ambuscade ;  while  the  inhabitants  were  fighting  with  and 
pursuing  the  main  arm}',  their  city  was  taken  by  another  force 
in  their  rear,  and  they  saw  the  town  suddenly  bursting  into 
flames  behind  them.  In  the  panic  that  ensued  they  were 
vanquished  and  put  to  the  sword. 

These  successes  were  attended  by  a  double  result.  The 
Gibeonites,  terrified  by  the  annihilation  which  the  conquerors 
inflicted,  begged  for  mercy  and  an  alliance,  a  prayer  granted 
on  condition  that  they  should  acknowledge  Jehovah.  The 
rest  were  inflamed  with  hatred  against  the  apostates.  Sum- 
moned to  their  assistance,  Joshua  advanced  by  night,  and 
defeated  by  a  sudden  and  unexpected  attack  the  main  army 
of  his  antagonists.  The  princes  who  led  their  tribes  to  the 
war  concealed  themselves  after  their  defeat  in  a  cave.     Here 


32  THE  TWELVE  TBIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

they  were  discovered.  The  captains  of  Israel  phiced  their 
feet,  ill  the  literal  sense  of  the  words,  npoii  the  necks  of  the 
kings;  the  five  kings  were  then  hanged  on  five  trees.  And 
80,  says  the  original  account,  "Joshua  smote  all  the  country 
of  the  hills,  and  of  the  south,  and  of  the  vale,  and  of  the 
springs,  and  all  their  kings;  he  left  none  remaining,  but 
utterly  destroyed  all  that  breathed,  even  as  the  Lord  God  of 
Israel  commanded."  The  victorious  army  then  resumed  its 
position  at  Gilgal,  till  a  number  of  other  princes  and  tribes 
took  up  arms  against  them  and  marshalled  their  forces  near 
Lake  Merom,  through  which  the  upper  Jordan  flows.  Joshua 
marched  against  them  without  delay.  He  succeeded  in  sur- 
prising and  routing  them,  and  so  completely  annihilated  them 
in  the  pursuit  that  not  one  of  the  host  escaped.  Their  war 
chariots  were  burned,  their  horses  houghed.  The  power  of 
the  Israelites  lay  in  their  infantry  and  their  weapons,  the  spear 
and  the  sling.  All  the  cities  which  rose  against  them  were 
captured.  The  principal  city,  Ilazor,  was  "  burned  with  tire ;" 
the  rest  were  left  standing  upon  their  hills,  but  in  these  also 
everything  that  drew  breath  was  destroyed.  A  harsh  spirit 
of  violence  and  repression  broods  over  the  whole  narrative. 
Everything  has  to  die  to  make  room  for  the  Israelites. 

According  to  this  account  the  result  is  decided  by  two  sud- 
den attacks,  one  near  Gibeon  upon  the  five  kings  who  had 
risen  to  chastise  the  Gibeonites,  the  other  near  Lake  Merom 
upon  the  inhabitants  who  combined  to  expel  Israel  from  the 
country.  In  military  achievements,  such  as  the  passage  of 
the  river,  which  none  ventured  to  oppose,  the  erection  of  a 
camp  as  a  standing  menace  to  the  country  in  all  directions, 
the  rapid  march  of  Joshua  against  Gibeon  in  one  direction 
and  afterwards  against  Merom  in  another,  both  being  attacks 
upon  an  unprepared  enemy,  we  have  a  series  of  strategetic 
exploits  which  resulted  in  the  conquest  of  the  country.  It 
has  the  character  of  an  occupation,  and  was  accompanied  with 
few  exceptions  by  wholesale  destruction.  The  religious  spirit 
which  inspired  the  conquerore  is  indicated  by  the  miracles  of 
which  the  traditional  account  is  full.  We  see,  by  combining 
the  inscriptions  of  Rameses-Miamun  with  the  national  rela- 
tions discernible  from  sacred  writ,  that  the  Israelites  sucxjccdcd 


PAKTITIOX  OF  CANAAN.  33 

in  an  attempt  in  which  Eameses  suffered  shipwreck.  The 
confederation  of  Canaanitish,  or,  as  we  ought  beyond  doubt 
to  call  them,  Amoritish,  tribes,  before  which  the  Egyptian 
prince  gave  way,  was  shattered  and  annihilated  by  Joshua. 
A  greater  importance  belongs  to  the  historic  Joshua  than  to 
the  fabulous  Sesostris.  The  Israelites,  however,  cannot  be 
regarded  as  acting  designedly  in  alliance  with  the  Egyptians ; 
for  in  this  interval  the  Egyptians  and  the  Canaanites  had 
come  to  terms.  Moses  had  severed  himself  from  the  Egyp- 
tians. It  was  his  special  achievement  to  force  an  entrance 
into  Canaan,  and  to  seize  upon  a  portion  from  which  the 
whole  country  could  be  subdued ;  and  this  is  the  purport  of 
those  deep  and  mysterious  words  which  he  is  represented  as 
having  spoken  before  he  died.  The  partition  of  the  country 
among  the  Israelites  was  carried  out  after  the  victories  of 
Joshua.  Although  made  by  lot,  it  has  an  oracular  character, 
as  made  before  the  ark  of  the  covenant  at  Shiloh.  It  cannot 
be  regarded  as  a  complete  occupation.  The  localities  which 
the  separate  tribes  occupy  are,  so  to  speak,  military  positions, 
taken  up  with  the  view  of  carrying  out  and  completing  the 
conquest  according  to  the  scheme  laid  down  beforehand. 

The  march  of  the  tribes  was  at  the  same  time  arranged  on 
military  principles.  The  tribe  of  Levi  was  near  the  taber- 
nacle, in  the  centre ;  the  others  were  ranged  according  to 
the  points  of  the  compass,  Judah  towards  the  east,  Keuben 
towards  the  south,  Ephraim  towards  the  west,  Dan  towards 
the  north.  On  the  march  the  first  two  preceded,  the  rest 
followed  the  tabernacle,  all  under  their  banners  with  the  en- 
signs of  their  tribes.  It  was  a  host  of  families  in  migration, 
a  single  caste,  all  alike  warriors ;  the  tribe  set  apart  for  the 
service  of  the  sanctuary  had  no  precedence. 

Upon  the  occupation  of  the  country  the  sanctuary  re- 
mained established  at  Shiloh,  the  site  of  which  is  still  recog- 
nized by  the  ruins  of  its  buildings.*  The  ark  of  the  covenant 
was  at  first  intrusted  to  the  tribe  of  Ephraim,  which  extended 


*  Now  Seilun,  separated  by  small  wadys  from  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains, and,  although  commanded  by  these  heights,  a  defensible  position 
to  a  certain  extent  (Robinson,  iii.  304). 

3 


34  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

northwards  over  the  mountain-range  which  beai*s  its  name, 
without,  liowever,  becoming  completely  master  of  the  prov- 
ince assigned  to  it.  Gezer,  for  example,  which  we  find  later 
on  as  a  well-regulated  kingdom  of  small  extent,  remained  Ca- 
naanite.  Joshua  was  of  the  tribe  of  Ephraim.  Sychem  seems 
to  have  been  the  chief  seat  of  the  secular  power.  It  was  the 
place  purchased  by  Jacob,  where  the  household  gods  of  Laban 
were  buried,  and  to  which  the  bones  of  Joseph  were  brought. 
At  a  later  time  it  was  the  centre  of  tiie  northern  kingdom. 
North  of  Sychem  was  settled  the  half-tribe  of  Manasseh,  with 
an  admixture,  however,  of  Ephraimites,  and  enclosing  within 
its  borders  five  Canaanitish  towns.  Benjamin  adjoined  Eph- 
raim to  the  south,  a  territory,  the  small  extent  of  which 
was,  as  Josephus  tells  us,  compensated  by  its  great  fertility. 
Here  was  situated  Jebus,  the  Jerusalem  of  a  later  date,  which 
the  Benjamites  in  vain  attempted  to  conquer.  Next  in  power 
to  Ephraim  comes  the  tribe  of  Judah,  whose  portion  was  upon 
the  southern  mountain-range,  the  abode  of  the  most  warlike 
of  the  hostile  nations,  where  the  struggle  continued  later  than 
elsewhere.  Judah  could  only  occupy  the  hill  country,  not 
the  plains,  the  inhabitants  of  which  used  chariots  of  iron. 
Simeon  and  Dan  were  under  the  protection  of  Judah.  An 
especially  bold  and  enterprising  character  is  ascribed  to  the 
tribe  of  Dan.  But,  like  Judah,  it  could  only  obtain  possession 
of  the  hill  country,  beyond  which,  for  a  considerable  period, 
it  did  not  venture.  To  the  north  of  Ephraim  were  settled 
the  tribes  of  Issachar  and  Naphtali,  with  Zebulon  and  Asher 
extending  along  the  western  bank  of  the  Jordan.  But  of 
Naphtali  it  is  said,  "  He  dwelt  among  the  Canaanites."  Zebu- 
lon had  two  Canaanitish  towns  within  its  territories.  The 
province  of  Asher  was  a  narrow  strip  on  the  coast  of  the 
Phoenician  Sea ;  the  task  of  conquering  Sidon,  which  properly 
fell  to  it,  it  could  never  dream  of  attempting,  and  six  towns 
remained  unconquercd  within  its  province.  Reuben,  Gad, 
and  the  half-tribe  of  Manasseh  dwelt  east  of  the  Jordan  in  a 
region  of  forests  and  pasture  lands. 

The  appearance  of  the  Israelites  upon  the  scene  of  history 
lias  been  compared  with  that  of  the  Arabs  under  Mohammed, 
and  the  identity  of  religious  and  national  feeling  in  both  cases 


THE  ISRAELITES.  35 

establishes  a  certain  analogy  between  them.  But  the  distinc- 
tion is  this :  that  the  Arabs  being  in  contact  with  great  king- 
doms, and  themselves  far  more  powerful  than  the  Israelites, 
were  able  to  meditate  the  conquest  of  the  world.  The  Israel- 
ites at  first  only  sought  a  dwelling-place,  for  which  they  had 
to  struggle  with  kingdoms  of  small  area  but  considerable 
vitality.  Their  position  may  rather  be  compared  with  the 
conquistas  of  the  Spaniards  on  the  Pyrenean  peninsula,  iso- 
lated districts  destined  to  form  the  basis  of  a  future  conquest. 

The  Israelites  occupied  the  mountain  regions,  as  the  Amor- 
ites  had  done  before  them  ;  but,  like  the  Amorites,  they  en- 
countered a  vigorous  and  energetic  resistance.  First  of  all, 
the  kindred  populations  of  the  Ammonites  and  Moabites, 
who  thought  themselves  encroached  on  by  the  Israelites,  rose 
against  them  ;  then  the  Midianites,  themselves  also  inhabitants 
of  the  desert,  invaded,  though  already  once  conquered  by 
Israel,  the  districts  occupied  by  the  latter.  A  powerful  prince 
made  his  appearance  from  Mesopotamia,  and  ruled  a  great 
part  of  these  districts  and  populations  for  some  time.  On 
tlie  sea-coast  we  find  the  Philistines  settled  in  five  cities,  each 
of  which  obeys  its  own  king,  but  which  formed  together  one 
community  with  a  peculiar  religious  character.  Against  these 
assaults,  which  are,  however,  nothing  but  the  reaction  against 
their  earlier  campaigns,  the  Israelites  had  to  maintain  them- 
selves. The  worship  of  Baal,  with  which  the  Egyptians  had 
already  contended,  maintained  its  ground  with  a  vigor  which 
the  struggle  itself  intensified  and  perpetuated,  and  was  often, 
as  the  Book  of  Judges  complains,  a  dangerous  rival  to  the 
God  whose  name  Israel  professed.  Against  it  the  warlike 
tribes  found  their  best  weapon  in  adhesion  to  the  god  of  their 
fathers.  The  leaders  who  kept  them  firm  in  this  resolve  ap- 
pear under  the  name  shophetim^  a  term  explained  to  mean 
*^  champions  of  national  right."  In  the  book  dedicated  to 
their  exploits,  the  Book  of  Judges,  some  of  the  most  distin- 
guished among  them  are  portrayed  with  some  natural  admix- 
ture of  myth,  but  with  clearly  marked  lineaments. 

We  read  of  whole  decades  of  peace,  then  of  disturbance 
raised  by  foreign  powers.  At  one  time  princes  whose  domin- 
ions are  of   large  extent  attempt  to  impose  an  oppressive 


86  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

bondage ;  at  another,  neighboring  races  with  ancient  ties  of 
affinity  push  far  into  the  lieart  of  the  country  and  once  more 
occupy  the  City  of  Palms,  the  ancient  Jericho.  At  times,  also, 
the  native  inhabitants,  once  vanquished,  renew  their  league. 
Then  great  men,  or  sometimes  women,  come  forward  to  decide 
the  issue  by  force  or  stratagem.  The  traditional  account,  al- 
ways perfectly  honest,  never  refuses  its  grateful  praise  to  de- 
liverances effected  by  actions  which  would  otherwise  excite 
abhorrence.  Sometimes  we  have  men  who  execute  deeds 
such  as  that  perpetrated  many  centuries  afterwards  by  Cle- 
ment upon  Henry  III.,  or  women  who  avail  themselves  of 
the  exhaustion  of  a  hostile  general  to  put  him  to  a  horrible 
death  by  piercing  his  temples.  We  recognize  an  imperilled 
nationality,  ready  to  employ  any  means,  whatever  their  char- 
acter, to  save  its  existence  and  its  religion. 

The  struggle  without  runs  parallel  with  an  internal  strife, 
decided  in  the  same  violent  spirit.  A  hideous  crime  com- 
mitted in  the  tribe  of  Benjamin  is  chastised  by  the  ruin  of 
that  tribe.  The  whole  nation  rises.  While  race  is  thus  pit- 
ted against  race,  and  conflicting  religious  ideas  wrestle  for 
predominance,  some  notably  colossal  forms  become  conspicu- 
ous. The  first  of  these  is  Deborah,  who  was  judging  the 
people  under  the  palm-tree  of  Deborah  on  Mount  Ephraim 
when  a  new  king  arose  in  Ilazor,  the  district  conquered  by 
Joshua,  near  Lake  Merom.  Jehovah  delivered  up  His  people 
to  this  prince  for  their  chastisement.  "  The  inhabitants  of 
the  villages  ceased,  they  ceased  in  Israel,  until  that  I,  Debo- 
rah, arose,  that  I  arose  a  mother  in  Israel."  At  her  sum- 
mons an  army  of  all  the  northern  tribes  gathered  together 
on  Mount  Tabor;  she  herself  was  present,  and  celebrated  in 
a  noble  song  the  victory  which  the  Israelites  achieved  over 
the  heavy-armed  forces  and  war-chariots  of  the  enemy.  The 
song  begins  with  the  words,  "  Praise  ye  the  Lord  for  the 
avenging  of  Israel  when  tlie  people  willingly  offered  them- 
selves." It  is  a  grand  mystic  ode,  an  historical  relic  of  the 
Urst  rank. 

Another  no  less  notable  character  is  Gideon,  of  the  tribe 
of  Manasseh.  The  Midianites  and  other  childixjn  of  the  east 
had  overflowed  the  country  and  destroyed  the  crops.     Israel 


THE  JUDGES.  37 

was  compelled  to  take  refuge  in  the  mountain  glens,  and  in 
his  turn  to  protect  himself  behind  walls  and  ramparts.  The 
summons  comes  to  Gideon  while  threshing  his  wheat  in  the 
wine-press  under  the  terebinth  of  his  father.  He  overthrows 
the  altar  of  Baal,  at  which  the  people  in  the  neighborhood 
have  already  begun  to  worship,  and  kindles  in  its  place  a 
burnt-offering  to  Jehovah.  At  the  sound  of  his  trumpets 
Manasseh  gathers  round  him.  Of  the  whole  number,  how- 
ever, he  retains  only  three  liundred,  sifted  from  the  rest  by 
a  certain  act  of  self-restraint.  Their  onset  with  the  sound  of 
trumpets  and  the  flashing  of  torches  throws  the  enemy  into 
confusion  and  causes  his  rout.  Upon  this  the  northern  tribes 
gather  themselves,  particularly  the  Ephraimites,  who  are  dis- 
pleased that  they  were  not  summoned  sooner ;  they  seize  all 
the  fords  of  the  river,  once  more  smite  the  Midianites  at  the 
rock  Oreb,  and  slay  their  leaders,  Oreb  and  Zeeb.  Gideon 
crosses  the  Jordan,  and  takes  prisoner  the  last  of  the  Midi- 
anitish  princes;  he  extirpates  the  worship  of  Baal  on  all 
sides,  and  earns  the  name  of  "  Jerub-baal."  After  he  has 
rescued  his  countrymen  from  their  most  pernicious  enemy, 
they  offer  him  dominion  over  Israel,  for  himself  and  his  pos- 
terity. Gideon  answers,  "  I  will  not  rule  over  you  ;  neither 
shall  my  son  rule  over  you :  Jehovah  shall  rule  over  you." 
Deborah  and  Gideon  are  the  two  grandest  figures  in  the 
book,  "^hey  belong  to  the  tribes  which  trace  their  origin  to 
Joseph  and  his  Egyptian  wife. 

An  extraordinary  character  appears  in  Samson,  who  belongs 
to  the  small  but  warlike  tribe  of  Dan.  Even  before  his  birth 
he  is  dedicated  to  the  service  of  Jehovah  by  heaven-sent 
tokens.  His  strength  is  irresistible  as  soon  as  the  Spirit  of 
God  comes  upon  him.  He  wars  against  the  Philistines,  who 
have  already  obtained  an  advantage,  and  even  dominion,  over 
Israel.  He  succumbs,  however,  to  their  cunning.  The  name 
of  the  woman  who  enchains  him,  Delilah,  signifies  traitress. 
In  his  death  all  his  energy  and  feeling  are  concentrated. 
His  enemies  have  put  out  his  eyes.  ''  Let  me  die  with  these 
Philistines,"  he  exclaims,  and  pulls  down  the  pillars  which 
support  the  house  in  which  they  are  gathered  together,  bur}^- 
ing  himself  under  the  ruins.     The  action  is,  like  many  others 


38  THE  TWELVE  TWBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

in  this  narrative,  at  once  grandiose  and  bizarre.  In  sub- 
stance it  may  be  called  the  self-devotion  of  a  strength  conse- 
crated to  God. 

Yet  the  situation  was  strangely  reversed.  The  conquerors 
were  compelled  to  be  on  the  defensive ;  the  Philistines, 
strengthened  by  the  native  tribes  who,  on  being  expelled  by 
the  Israelites,  had  taken  refuge  with  them,  achieved  once 
more  a  victor3\  The  ark  of  the  covenant  itself  fell  into  their 
hands.  At  the  news  of  this  the  high-priest  Eli,  then  aged 
ninety-eight  years,  fell  from  his  chair  and  died.  It  would 
seem  that  Shiloli  itself  was  laid  waste.  Though  the  ark  of 
the  covenant,  an  unblessed  possession  to  those  who  laid  violent 
hands  upon  it,  was  restored  to  the  Israelites  by  the  Philis- 
tines, and  again  set  up  on  the  hill  near  Gibeon,  yet  the  con- 
querors maintained  their  hold  of  the  subjugated  districts.  The 
gods  of  the  Philistines,  Baal  and  Astarte,  whom  they  led  with 
them  to  the  field,  seemed  to  have  won  the  victory  over  Je- 
hovah. The  ark  was  at  one  time  kept  as  it  were  prisoner  in 
the  temple  of  the  fish-god,  Dagon,  but  at  length  it  was  given 
back.  Now,  if  ever,  was  the  time  for  the  national  and  relig- 
ious spirit  in  Israel  to  rouse  itself.  But  no  one  appeared 
again  in  the  character  at  once  of  judge  and  warrior,  to  pro- 
tect the  people  by  force  of  arms.  It  was  the  Levite  Samuel, 
a  prophet  dedicated  to  God  even  before  his  birth,  who  re- 
called them  to  the  consciousness  of  religious  feeling.  He 
succeeded  in  removing  the  emblems  of  Baal  and  Astarte  from 
the  heights,  and  in  paving  the  way  for  renewed  faith  in  Je- 
hovah. The  struggle  which  now  began  was  preceded  by 
fasts  and  religious  services.  The  Israelites  succeeded  so  far 
as  to  be  able  to  raise  a  trophy  at  Mizpeh  ;*  thence  the 
prophet  removed  to  Gilgal,  the  base  of  operations  in  time 
past  during  the  campaigns  of  conquest. 

'*'  How  much  importance  was  attached  to  this  event  is  clear  from  the 
representation  of  Josephus,  who  here  exaggerates  the  miraculous  element 
which  he  elsewhere  strives  to  minimize.  According  to  him  ("Antiquit." 
vi.  2,  2),  Jehovah  encounters  the  enemy  with  an  earthquake,  so  that  he 
does  not  know  where  to  set  his  foot,  and  then  with  thunder  and  light- 
ning, which  complete  his  confusion.  It  is  impossible  that  this  enhance- 
ment of  the  miraculous  element  can  come  from  Josephus  himself. 


THE  MONARCHY.  39 

This  measure  of  success  was  not,  however,  enough  for  the 
people  ;  a  great  part  of  their  territory  was  still  in  the  hands  of 
the  enemy,  and  this  they  could  not  hope  to  recover  under  the 
leadership  of  the  prophet.  It  was  the  feeling  of  the  people 
that  they  could  only  carry  on  the  war  upon  the  system  em- 
ployed by  all  their  neighbors.  They  demanded  a  king — a 
request  very  intelligible  under  existing  circumstances,  but 
one  which  nevertheless  involved  a  wide  and  significant  de- 
parture from  the  impulses  which  had  hitherto  moved  the 
Jewish  community  and  the  forms  in  which  it  had  shaped  it- 
self. It  had  been  proclaimed  on  Horeb  that  Jehovah  had 
chosen  Israel  to  himself  as  His  own  possession,  and  the  last 
of  the  victorious  heroes  had  declined  the  kingdom  offered  to 
him,  on  the  ground  that  Jehovah  should  be  King  over  His 
people.  The  neighboring  kings  were  for  the  most  part  tribal 
chieftains,  who  boasted  a  divine  origin — an  idea  which  could 
find  no  place  in  Israel.  In  particular  it  was  difficult  to  de- 
termine the  relations  between  the  prophet,  through  whom 
the  Divine  Will  was  especially  revealed,  and  the  king,  to 
whom  an  independent  authority  over  all,  without  exception, 
must  of  necessity  be  conceded.  This  question  is  one  of  the 
highest  importance  as  affecting  all  embodiments  of  monarch- 
ical power  in  later  times.  The  spontaneous  action  of  a  free 
community  and  the  will  of  God  as  proclaimed  by  the  prophet 
were  now  to  be  associated  with  a  third  and  independent  fac- 
tor, a  royal  power  which  could  claim  no  hereditary  title. 
The  Israelites  demanded  a  king,  not  only  to  go  before  them 
and  fight  their  battles,  but  also  to  judge  them.  They  no 
longer  looked  for  their  preservation  to  the  occasional  efforts 
of  the  prophetic  order  and  the  ephemeral  existence  of  heroic 
leaders.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  doubtful  what  preroga- 
tives should  be  assigned  to  a  king.  The  argument  by  which 
Samuel,  as  the  narrative  records,  seeks  to  deter  the  people 
from  their  purpose,  is  that  the  king  will  encroach  upon  the 
freedom  of  private  life  which  they  have  hitherto  enjoyed, 
employing  their  sons  and  daughters  in  his  service,  whether 
in  the  palace  or  in  war,  exacting  tithes,  taking  the  best  part 
of  the  land  for  himself,  and  regarding  all  as  his  bondsmen. 
In  this  freedom  of  tribal  and  family  life  lay  the  essence  of 


40  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

the  Mosaic  constitution.  But  the  danger  that  all  may  be  lost 
is  so  pressing  tliat  the  people  insist  upon  their  own  will  in 
opposition  to  the  prophet.  Nevertheless,  without  the  prophet 
nothing  can  be  done,  and  it  is  he  who  selects  from  the  youth 
of  the  country  the  man  "who  is  to  enjoy  the  new  dignity  in 
Israel.  He  finds  himself  alone  with  him  one  day,  having 
ordered  the  rest  to  retire,  that  ho  might  declare  to  him  the 
word  of  God,  and  pours  the  vial  of  oil  upon  his  head  with 
the  words,  **  Behold,  Jehovah  hath  anointed  thee  to  be  cap- 
tain over  His  inheritance."  The  language  is  remarkable,  as 
implying  that  the  property  of  Jehovah  in  His  people  is  re- 
served to  Him.  It  was  not  the  conception  of  the  monarchy 
prevalent  among  the  neighboring  Canaanitish  tribes  w^hicli 
here  found  expression ;  for  the  essential  character  of  the  old 
constitution  of  Israel  was  at  the  same  time  preserved.  The 
ceremony  of  anointing  was  perhaps  adopted  from  Egypt.  On 
the  Egyptian  monuments,  at  any  rate,  gods  are  to  be  seen 
anointing  their  king.  The  monarchy  springs  not  merely  from 
conditions  which  are  part  of  the  actual  and  present  experi- 
ence of  the  nation,  but  is  at  the  same  time  a  gift  from  God. 

At  fii*st  the  proceeding  had  but  a  doubtful  result.  Many 
despised  a  young  man  sprung  from  the  smallest  family  of 
the  smallest  tribe  of  Israel,  as  one  who  could  give  them  no 
real  assistance.  In  order  to  make  effective  the  conception  of 
the  kingly  office  thus  assigned  to  him,  it  was  necessary  in 
the  first  place  that  he  should  gain  for  himself  a  personal 
reputation.  A  king  of  the  Ammonites,  a  tribe  in  aftinity  to 
Israel,  laid  siege  to  Jabesh  in  Gilead,  and  burdened  the  prof- 
fered surrender  of  the  place  with  the  condition  that  he  should 
put  out  the  right  eyes  of  the  inhabitants.  It  was  clear  that, 
if  no  one  rescued  them,  tliey  would  have  to  submit  even  to 
this  hideous  condition.  Such  an  event  would  be  an  insult  to 
all  Israel.  Saul,  the  son  of  Kish,  a  Benjamite,  designated  by 
the  prophet  as  king,  but  not  as  yet  recognized  as  such,  was 
engaged,  as  Gideon  before  him,  in  his  rustic  labors,  when  ho 
learned  the  situation  through  the  lamentations  of  the  people. 

The  narrative  abounds  with  symbolic  actions,  each  expres- 
sive of  some  great  underlying  truth.  Seized  with  the  idea  of 
his  mission,  Saul  cuts  in  pieces  a  yoke  of  oxen,  and  sends  the 


PROPHET  AND  KING.  41 

portions  to  the  twelve  tribes  with  the  threat,  "Whosoever 
Cometh  not  forth  after  Saul  and  after  Samuel,  so  shall  it  be 
done  unto  his  oxen."  We  see  from  this  that  the  imminent 
danger  is  not  in  itself  a  sufficient  incentive,  but  requires  to 
be  supported  by  the  menace  of  punishment  at  the  hand  of 
the  new  ruler  to  those  who  hang  back.  Thus  urged,  how- 
ever, Israel  combines  like  one  man  ;  Jabesh  is  rescued  and 
Saul  acknowledged  as  king.  This  recognition  takes  place  be- 
fore Jehovah  in  the  old  camp  at  Gilgal,  where  soon  after  a 
victory  is  achieved  over  the  Philistines.  Their  camp  at 
Michmash,  at  the  exit  of  a  rocky  pass  leading  down  into  the 
Jordan  valley  in  the  direction  of  Gilgal,  is  taken  by  the  son 
of  Saul,  the  Israelites  who  are  found  in  it  passing  over  to 
liis  side.  With  the  recognition  of  the  king,  however,  and 
the  progress  of  his  good-fortune,  a  new  and  disturbing  ele- 
ment appears.  A  contest  breaks  out  between  him  and  the 
prophet,  in  which  we  recognize  not  so  much  opposition  as 
jealousy  between  the  two  powers. 

The  earlier  judges  had  been  prophets  as  well,  and  had 
themselves  offered  the  sacrifices.  Now,  however,  a  prophet 
and  a  military  leader  of  regal  authority  are  associated  togeth- 
er. In  the  presence  of  a  fresh  danger,  in  which  the  battle  is 
to  be  preceded  by  the  sacrifice,  the  king,  as  the  prophet  delays 
to  appear,  presumes  himself  to  minister  at  the  altar.  This 
the  prophet  declares  to  be  a  great  transgression,  and  at  once 
announces  that  another  has  been  found  to  occupy  the  place  of 
Saul.  But  it  requires  a  second  incident  to  fan  the  quarrel  to 
a  flame.  Saul  has  conquered  Moab,  Ammon,  Edom,  and  the 
Philistines  ;  the  devastations  cease  ;  he  possesses  the  hearts  of 
the  people,  but  cannot  reconcile  himself  with  the  prophet. 
In  the  war  against  Amalek,  the  prophet,  in  the  old  spirit  of 
stern  and  uncompromising  hostility  to  the  neighboring  races, 
has  cursed  everything,  men,  women,  children,  infants  at  the 
breast,  oxen  and  sheep,  camels  and  asses.  The  Amalekites, 
although  descended  from  Esau,  and  therefore  no  less  than  the 
Ammonites  of  kindred  race  with  Israel,  had  opposed  the  lat- 
ter on  their  approach  from  Egypt  under  the  guidance  of  Je- 
hovah. The  war  is  carried  on  with  the  memory  of  this  op- 
position still  fresh  in   the  minds  of   the  Israelites,  and  the 


42  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

enemy  is  now  to  be  punished  by  complete  annihilation. 
Saul  obtains  the  victory,  and  obeys,  but  not  without  some 
reservation,  the  cruel  injunction  of  the  prophet.  He  spares 
the  hostile  king,  and,  being  reluctant  to  destroy  the  good 
and  useful  part  of  the  plunder  which  has  been  obtained,  takes 
it  with  him  on  his  homeward  march.  "  What  meaneth,"  says 
Samuel,  "  this  bleating  of  the  sheep  in  mine  ears,  and  the 
lowing  of  the  oxen  which  I  hear  ?  Because  thou  hast  re- 
jected the  word  of  the  Lord  he  hath  also  rejected  thee  from 
being  king."  He  hews  the  captive  king  in  pieces  with  his 
own  hand  before  the  sanctuary  in  Gilgal.  From  that  day  he 
sees  Saul  no  more. 

If  we  endeavor  to  realize  the  exact  motive  of  this  quarrel, 
it  would  appear  to  be  this :  that  whilst  the  king  and  com- 
mander asserted  his  distinctive  right  to  strike  a  blow  at  the 
proper  moment,  and  not  to  destroy  but  to  dispose  of  the 
booty,  the  prophet,  holding  firmly  by  the  traditional  prac- 
tice, set  himself  against  the  new  right  so  claimed  with  all  the 
ferocity  of  the  old  times.  On  the  one  side  was  the  indepen- 
dent power  of  monarchy,  which  looks  to  the  requirements  of 
the  moment,  on  the  other  the  prophet's  tenacious  and  unre- 
served adherence  to  tradition.  Another  ground  of  quarrel 
is  to  be  found  in  the  natural  desire  of  the  king  to  leave  the 
throne  as  a  heritage  to  his  posterity,  while  the  prophet  claimed 
to  dispose  of  the  succession  as  it  might  seem  best  to  him. 
The  relations  between  the  tribes  have  also  some  bearing  on 
the  question.  Hitherto  Ephraim  had  led  the  van,  and  jeal- 
ously insisted  on  its  prerogative.  Saul  was  of  Benjamin,  a 
tribe  nearly  related  to  Ephraim  by  descent.  He  had  made 
the  men  of  his  own  tribe  captains,  and  had  given  them  vine- 
yards. On  the  other  hand,  the  prophet  chose  Saul's  successor 
from  the  tribe  of  Judah.  This  successor  was  David,  the  son 
of  Jesse,  one  already  distinguished  as  victor  in  a  single  com- 
bat with  the  giant  whom  no  one  else  ventured  to  encounter, 
but  wliom,  in  spite  of  his  panoply,  he  overthrew  with  his 
sling.  Ho  had  obtained  access  to  the  house  of  the  king, 
whose  melancholy  he  succeeded  in  charming  by  the  music  of 
his  harp,  and  had  won  the  friendship  of  his  son  and  the  love 
of  his  daughter.     A  peculiar  complication  results  from  tlie 


DAVID. 

fact  that  Jonatlian,  the  son  of  Saul,  to  whom  the 
have  passed  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  protected  his 
friend  David  from  the  acts  of  violence  to  which  his  father,  who 
could  not  endure  David's  presence  any  longer,  gave  way  in 
the  interest  of  this  very  son.  In  the  opposition  which  now 
begins  we  have  on  the  one  side  the  prophet  and  his  anointed, 
who  aim  at  maintaining  the  religious  authority  in  all  its  as- 
pects, on  the  other  the  champion  and  deliverer  of  the  nation, 
who,  abandoned  by  the  faithful,  turns  for  aid  to  the  powers 
of  darkness  and  seeks  knowledge  of  the  future  through  witch- 
craft. Saul  is  the  first  tragic  personage  in  the  history  of  the 
world. 

David  took  refuge  with  the  Philistines.  Among  them  he 
lived  as  an  independent  military  chieftain,  and  was  joined  not 
only  by  opponents  of  the  king,  but  by  others,  ready  for  any 
service,  or,  in  the  language  of  the  original,  "  men  armed  with 
bows,  who  could  use  both  the  right  hand  and  the  left  in  hurl- 
ing stones  and  shooting  arrows  out  of  a  bow."  The  Philis- 
tines were  for  the  most  part  better  armed  than  the  Israelites; 
the  latter  had  first  to  learn  to  use  the  sword,  and  the  troop  of 
freebooters  was  the  school  of  the  hero  David.  In  the  difiicult 
situation  resulting  from  the  fact  that  the  Philistines  were 
protecting  him  whilst  his  own  king  was  against  him,  David 
displayed  no  less  prudence  and  circumspection  than  enterpris- 
ing boldness.  In  any  serious  war  against  the  Israelites,  such 
as  actually  broke  out,  the  Sarim  of  the  Philistines  would  not 
have  tolerated  him  amongst  them.  David  preferred  to  engage 
in  a  second  attack  upon  the  Amalekites,  the  common  enemy 
of  Philistines  and  Jews.  At  this  juncture  Israel  was  defeated 
by  the  Philistines.  The  king's  sons  were  slain  ;  Saul,  in  dan- 
ger of  falling  into  the  enemy's  hands,  slew  himself.  Mean- 
while David  with  his  freebooters  had  defeated  the  Amale- 
kites, and  torn  from  their  grasp  the  spoil  they  had  accumulated, 
w^hich  was  now  distributed  in  Judah.  Soon  after,  the  death 
of  Saul  is  announced.  David,  however,  had  not  for  a  mo- 
ment forgotten  that  Saul,  through  the  anointing  hand  of  the 
prophet,  had  acquired  an  inviolable  dignity,  one  in  his  eyes 
of  the  highest  sanctity.  The  Amalekite  who  informed  him 
of  the  death  of  Saul  was  put  to  death  by  his  order  for  having 


44  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

laid  his  hand  upon  the  Lord's  anointed ;  for  the  messenger 
had  asserted  that,  at  the  fallen  king's  entreaty,  he  had  given 
him  the  death-blow.*  In  David's  song  of  lamentation,  again, 
plaint  is  made  to  Jehovah  because  disgrace  had  fallen  upon 
Saul,  "as  though  he  had  not  been  anointed  with  oil."  For  it 
was  only  the  succession  of  his  son  which  the  prophet  had  op- 
posed ;  the  sovereignty  which  he  possessed  had  remained  un- 
assailed.  The  song  of  David  is  incomparable ;  it  contains 
nothing  but  praise  and  appreciation  of  his  enemy,  and  once 
more  his  friendship  with  Jonathan  is  conspicuous  in  it. 

David,  conscious  of  being  the  rightful  successor  of  Saul — 
for  on  him  too,  long  ere  this,  the  unction  had  been  bestowed 
— betook  himself  to  Hebron,  the  seat  of  the  ancient  Canaan- 
itish  kings,  which  had  subsequently  been  given  up  to  the 
priests  and  made  one  of  the  cities  of  refuge.  It  was  in  the 
province  of  Judah  ;  and  there,  the  tribe  of  Judah  assisting  at 
the  ceremony,  David  was  once  more  anointed.  This  tribe 
alone,  however,  acknowledged  him ;  the  others,  especially  Eph- 
raim  and  Benjamin,  attached  themselves  to  Ishbosheth,  the 
surviving  son  of  Saul.  And  here  lay  the  essential  question. 
Saul  had  been  acknowledged  as  king  not  only  because  of  his 
anointing,  but  in  consequence  of  that  deliverance  of  the 
country  which  he  had  effected.  The  conflict  which  the  com- 
plex idea  of  the  monarchy  involved  was  again  renewed.  The 
majority  of  the  tribes  insisted,  even  after  the  death  of  Saul, 
on  the  right  of  lineal  succession.  The  first  passage  of  arms 
between  the  two  hosts  took  place  between  twelve  of  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin  and  twelve  of  David's  men-at-arms.  It  led, 
liowever,  to  no  result ;  it  was  a  mutual  slaughter,  so  complete 
as  to  leave  no  survivor. 


♦  As  is  well  known,  there  is  at  this  point,  between  the  accounts  in  the 
last  chapter  of  the  first  and  the  first  chapter  of  the  second  Book  of  Sam- 
uel, a  certain  discrepancy,  which  a  later  tradition,  which  appears  in  Jose- 
phus,  has  attempted  to  explain  by  a  somewhat  arbitrary  expedient.  It 
seems  to  me,  however,  that  the  narrative  in  the  second  book  is  to  be  re- 
garded not  as  a  confession,  but  as  a  pretended  claim  on  the  part  of  the 
Amalekitc;  and  to  this  the  words  of  David  point:  "Thy  blood  bo  on 
thine  own  head,  for  thine  own  mouth  hath  witnessed  Against  thee"  (2 
Sam.  i.  10). 


DAVID.  45 

But  in  the  more  serious  struggle  wliicli  succeeded  this  the 
troops  of  David,  trained  as  they  were  in  warlike  undertakings 
of  great  daring  as  well  as  variety,  won  the  victory  over  Ish- 
bosheth ;  and  as  the  unanointed  king  could  not  rely  upon  the 
complete  obedience  of  his  commander-in-chief,  who  consid- 
ered himself  as  important  as  his  master,  David,  step  by  step, 
won  the  upper  hand.  He  had  the  magnanimity  not  to  exult 
over  the  ruin  of  his  enemies,  though  it  prepared  his  own  way 
to  the  throne.  The  elders  of  the  tribes  came  to  Hebron.  In 
accordance  with  the  old  prophetic  direction,  which  they  now 
obeyed,  the  anointing  of  David  as  king  over  all  Israel  took 
place.  He  had  neither  forced  the  tribes  to  do  this  nor  con- 
quered their  territory;  they  came  in  to  him  of  their  own  ac- 
cord. Yet  the  supremacy  of  the  king  was  not  unlimited.  It 
is  said  "  the  elders  made  a  covenant  with  him."  Their  prin- 
cipal motive  was  that,  even  whilst  his  predecessor  was  still 
reigning,  David  had  done  most  for  his  people,  and  thus  God 
had  designated  him  as  captain  over  Israel. 

The  Benjamites  had  been  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  oppo- 
sition which  David  experienced.  Nevertheless,  the  first  action 
which  he  undertook  as  acknowledged  king  of  all  the  tribes 
redounded  specially  to  their  advantage,  whilst  it  was  at  the 
same  time  a  task  of  the  utmost  importance  for  the  whole  Is- 
raelitish  commonwealth.  Although  Joshua  had  conquered 
the  Amorites,  one  of  their  strongholds,  Jebus,  still  remained 
unsubdued,  and  the  Benjamites  had  exerted  all  their  strength 
against  it  in  vain.  It  was  to  this  point  that  David  next  di- 
rected his  victorious  arms.  Having  conquered  the  place,  he 
transferred  the  seat  of  his  kingdom  thither  without  delay. 
This  seat  is  Jerusalem ;  the  word  Zion  has  the  same  meaning 
as  Jebus.  This  must  be  considered  as  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant of  David's  achievements.  It  made  him  master  of  Benja- 
min, and  was  a  considerable  advance  upon  the  possession  in 
Judah  of  Hebron  alone,  whilst  at  the  same  time  the  fortress 
which  he  had  occupied  might  become  a  centre  of  union  for 
the  whole  people. 

We  understand  how  powerful  the  Philistines  were  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  capital  when  we  find  it  recorded  that  a 
position  which  controlled  it  was  still  in  their  hands.     While 


46  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

king  of  Jiidali,  David  had  continued  liis  alliance  with  them ; 
as  king  of  Israel  he  became  their  enemy.  They  marclied  of 
their  own  accord  against  him,  and  encamped  in  the  high  pla- 
teau of  Rephaim  over  against  Moriah.  David  twice  fiercely 
assaulted  them.  The  rustling  in  the  tops  of  the  balsam-trees 
he  regarded  as  a  token  of  the  personal  presence  of  Jehovah. 
Thereupon  he  attacked  his  powerful  enemy  again,  and  drove 
him  back  into  his  own  frontiers  as  far  as  Gaza.  The  Philis- 
tine idols  fell  into  his  hands.  It  was  the  warriors  trained  in 
his  earlier  struggles  and  expeditions  who  obtained  for  him 
the  victory.  Thus  supported,  his  kingdom  was  firm,  and  in 
Zion,  the  city  of  David,  as  it  is  called,  he  was  now  able  to 
build  himself  a  splendid  palace  of  the  cedars  of  Lebanon. 
Thither,  too,  he  brought  the  sanctuary  of  the  law,  the  ark  of 
the  covenant.  Of  any  part  taken  by  the  priesthood  in  direct- 
ing this  transference  of  the  sanctuary  the  oldest  account 
knows  nothing.  David  himself  offered  the  sacrifice,  and  there 
was  no  Samuel  at  hand  to  interfere  with  him.  He  had  this 
immeasurable  advantage  over  Saul,  that  king  and  prophet 
were  united  in  his  person.  This  twofold  character  is  reflected 
in  such  of  the  psalms  as  can,  with  some  probability,  be  referred 
to  him.  There  also  we  can  study  the  soul  of  a  prince  engaged 
in  a  struggle  which  every  moment  threatens  him  with  destruc- 
tion. "Before  me  stand  all  His  judgments:  1  removed  not 
His  commandments  from  me.  Through  Thee  I  have  discom- 
fited hosts  of  men.  Who  is  God  save  Jehovah,  who  hath 
girded  my  hands  to  war?" 

Having  made  himself  supreme  within  the  Israelitish  camp, 
David  now  directed  his  arms  against  his  still  implacable 
neighbors.  Again  and  again  he  encountered  the  Philistines; 
nor  could  they  make  direct  complaint  of  this,  for,  even  whilst 
ho  was  under  their  protection,  they  were  well  aware  that  he 
was  the  foreordained  successor  of  the  king  with  whom  they 
wore  at  war.  The  Philistines  had  hitherto  been  superior  to 
the  Israelites  through  their  better  equipment;  but  the  heroes 
of  David  were  especially  famous  for  the  dexterity  and  success 
with  which  they  made  use  of  their  weapons.  We  may  men- 
tion cases  in  which  their  prowess  is  exaggerated,  when  this 
exaggeration  is  characteristic.     One  of  the  heroes  of  David  is 


WARS  OF  DAVID.  47 

famed  for  having  brandished  his  spear  over  eight  hundred  of 
his  slaughtered  foes ;  another  for  having  wielded  his  sword  so 
long  that  his  hand  became  rigid  and  clutched  it  still  involun- 
tarily ;  a  third  for  the  bravery  with  which,  when  the  battle 
seemed  lost,  he  held  his  ground  till  he  had  struck  down  hun- 
dreds of  the  enemy  with  his  spear.  The  Egyptians  also  ap- 
pear as  their  antagonists,  but  were  conquered  in  a  primitive 
manner  in  a  hand-to-hand  encounter,  such  as  those  which 
the  Egyptian  inscriptions  occasionally  mention.  A  powerful 
Egyptian  warrior  advances  with  his  spear  against  his  Israel- 
itish  antagonist,  who  rushes  to  encounter  him  armed  only 
with  a  staff,  tears  his  javelin  from  his  grasp  and  slays  him 
with  it.  These  men  had  also  to  contend  with  the  wild  beasts 
of  the  desert,  and  David's  heroes,  like  himself,  tested  their 
strength  in  combat  with  lions.  Thus  grew  up  a  courageous 
race,  inured  to  war. 

This  race,  as  soon  as  it  had  no  longer  anything  further  to 
fear  from  the  Philistines,  threw  itself  into  the  struggle  with 
its  other  hostile  neighbors,  retaining  throughout  the  convic- 
tion that  its  wars  were  the  wars  of  Jehovah.  We  recognize 
the  disposition  of  David  when  we  read  that  he  declined  to 
refresh  himself  with  a  draught  of  water,  which  his  mighty 
men  had  fetched  him  at  great  personal  risk  from  a  well,  but 
poured  it  out  unto  Jehovah,  as  not  desiring  that  his  brave 
followers  should  shed  their  blood  for  him;  but  it  was  no  less 
clearly  seen  when,  after  vanquishing  Moab  and  Ammon,  both 
nations  addicted  to  fire-worship,  he  showed  no  trace  of  mercy 
towards  them.  Two  thirds  of  the  Moabites  were  put  to 
death,  whilst  the  vanquished  warriors  of  Ammon  were  thrown 
down  like  corn  upon  the  threshing-floor  and  slaughtered,  and 
their  remains  consumed  with  fire.  Meanwhile  David  trium- 
phantly placed  the  golden  and  jewelled  crown  of  Ammon 
upon  his  own  head.  He  was  not  disposed  to  incur  the  guilt 
of  compassion,  in  showing  which  Saul  had  disobeyed  the 
prophet  and  brought  on  his  own  ruin.  Perhaps  the  most 
marked  distinction  between  Saul  and  David  is,  that  whilst 
Saul  endeavored  to  sever  himself  from  the  strict  rules  of  the 
Israelitish  religion,  David  clung  tenaciously  to  the  violent 
methods  which  had  distinguished  the  first  conquest.     Thus 


48  TUE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

in  Edom,  again,  lie  caused  every  living  thing  of  the  male  sex 
to  be  destroyed ;  only  one  scion  of  the  royal  house  of  Esau 
escaped  and  took  refnge  in  Egypt. 

It  is  obvious  that  these  changes  involved  a  complete  revo- 
lution in  the  land  of  Canaan.  In  the  place  of  that  confeder- 
ation of  tribes,  no  longer  able  to  protect  its  sanctuary,  discon- 
nected and  intermingled  with  hostile  elements,  a  powerful 
kingdom  had  arisen,  which  ejected  everything  foreign,  and, 
having  obtained  by  a  sudden  stroke  a  commanding  site  for 
the  religion  of  Jehovah,  proceeded  at  once  to  subjugate  the 
kindred  nations.  These,  however,  were  connected  with  other 
neighbors  who  could  not  look  on  quietly  and  see  them  de- 
stroyed, and  the  flames  of  war,  once  kindled,  spread  far  and 
wide. 

A  position  of  high  importance  had  been  occupied  from  the 
earliest  times  by  Damascus,  an  oasis  which  the  skill  of  its  in- 
habitants had  converted  into  a  kind  of  paradise.  It  was  a 
central  point  for  the  caravan  traftic  of  Western  Asia,  where 
the  great  commercial  route,  which  led  thither  from  Babylon, 
branched  into  two  arms,  one  of  which  went  to  Egypt,  the 
other  to  Pha3nicia.  Phoenicia  was  at  that  time  at  the  height 
of  her  commercial  prosperity,  and  extended  her  traffic  to  the 
remotest  west,  whilst  she  kept  up  relations  with  the  farthest 
east  by  means  of  the  caravans  of  Babylon.  It  may  be  said 
that  in  Damascus  East  and  West  met  together;  it  was  one  of 
the  richest  seats  of  commerce  in  the  ancient  world.  At  this 
epoch  it  was  governed  by  a  Syro-Aramaic  prince,  with  whom 
David  came  into  collision.  It  was  not  so  ranch  a  religious 
interest  as  one  partly  military,  partly  commercial,  that  drew 
him  in  this  direction.  If  the  twelve  tribes  and  their  king 
could  obtain  possession  of  Damascus  they  would  gain  a  com- 
manding position  in  Western  Asia.  They  saw  a  new  world 
expanding  to  their  view,  very  different  from  that  of  Canaan. 
David's  attack  upon  Damascus  may  bo  regarded  as  an  under- 
taking decisive  for  the  power  of  Israel.  At  first  it  was  per- 
fectly successful.  The  king  conquered  Damascus.  Copper, 
which  may  have  come  from  Cyprus,  gold,  perhaps  brought 
from  India,  were  the  booty  of  the  conqueror.  He  used  them 
to  beautify  the  worship  of  Jehovah,  which  he  had  established 


GOVERNMENT.  49 

in  the  neighborhood  of  his  citadel.  David  everywhere  placed 
garrisons  in  the  towns,  and,  being  master  of  Syria  as  well  as 
of  Palestine,  was  now  exceedingly  formidable.  At  a  muster 
of  all  the  tribes  from  Dan  to  Beersheba  it  was  found  that  the 
number  of  valiant  men  who  drew  the  sword  amounted  to  one 
million  three  hundred  thousand.  It  is  clear  that  David  could 
at  any  juncture  bring  a  considerable  force  into  the  field.  The 
Phoenicians,  masters  of  the  trade  of  the  world,  sought  his 
friendship.  From  other  neighbors,  as,  indeed,  was  inevitable, 
he  experienced  much  hostility.  Nevertheless,  it  was  within 
his  own  kingdom  of  the  twelve  tribes  that  real  opposition  to 
him  first  arose. 

Never  was  a  nation  worse  adapted  than  the  Jewish  nation 
to  create  an  empire  by  conquest.  Tribal  feeling  was  tlie  heart 
and  soul  of  their  constitution.  Jehovah  suffered  no  other 
gods  besides  himself;  it  was  not  easy  to  govern  in  His  name 
nations  who  worshipped  other  gods.  A  strong  monarchy  was 
utterly  repugnant  to  the  habits  of  the  tribes.  Accustomed  to 
a  peaceful  rule — for  the  supremacy  of  the  judges  ceased  to 
exist  as  soon  as  victory  was  achieved — they  found  that  change 
of  constitution  which  was  involved  in  the  permanent  author- 
ity of  a  king  an  extremely  oppressive  one.  They  had  not 
asked  for  a  king  that  they  might  subjugate  foreign  nations, 
but  only  that  they  might  the  better  defend  themselves,  and, 
this  secured,  all  they  wanted  was  a  righteous  judge  to  whom 
to  refer  their  own  disputes.  Now,  however,  the}'^  found  a 
kind  of  military  government  established.  The  Gibborim  con- 
stituted a  class  of  warlike  and  powerful  magnates,  with  the 
advantage  of  a  distinct  organization,  as  captains  over  bodies 
of  twenty  or  two  hundred  under  the  absolute  control  of  a 
commander-in-chief.  There  was  also  a  body-guard  whose  ap- 
pellations of  executioners  and  runners  indicate  that  it  was 
their  duty  to  see  the  king's  commands  carried  out.  The 
king's  decisions  excited  various  complaints,  for  which  those 
about  his  person  were  held  responsible.  It  is  quite  intelligi- 
ble that  the  tribes  who  did  not  come  over  to  David's  side 
until  some  time  after  the  death  of  Saul,  and  who  had  never 
forgotten  their  own  king,  should  have  been  stirred  by  such 
causes  into  a  ferment  of  discontent.     But  the  tribe  of  Judah 

4 


50  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES   OF  ISRAEL. 

also,  upon  whose  support  David's  power  rested,  was  displeased, 
so  much  60  that  Absalom,  the  most  influential  of  the  king's 
sons,  could  entertain  the  design  of  raising  himself  to  the  royal 
power  even  in  his  father's  lifetime.  He  did  not  scruple  to 
promise  the  malcontents  better  days,  if  he  should  attain  to  the 
sovereignty,  and  at  length  gathered  them  around  him  at  He- 
bron, acting  in  concert  with  one  of  the  most  influential  of  his 
father's  advisers.  David  suddenly  perceived  that  his  subjects 
were  deserting  him,  and  that  the  ruin  of  his  capital  and  his 
whole  house  was  imminent.  Ho  formed  the  resolution  of  re- 
tiring from  the  capital  with  his  men  of  war.  Absalom  occu- 
pied the  city,  and,  yielding  to  evil  guidance,  set  foot  within 
his  father's  harem,  intending  by  this  act  an  assumption  of 
the  royal  dignity ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  let  the  opportunity 
slip  of  pursuing  his  father  with  the  superior  forces  he  had 
gathered  round  him.  David,  in  consequence,  found  time, 
after  passing  the  Jordan,  to  put  himself  in  a  position  of  de- 
fence, though  not  without  the  support  of  the  adjacent  dis- 
tricts, which  he  had  himself  once  subjugated.  Thus  the  great 
captain  and  conqueror  found  himself  opposed  to  his  own  sub- 
jects, whom  he  had  himself  settled  in  their  possessions,  with 
his  own  son  at  their  head.  We  touch  upon  this  incident 
principally  because  it  had  extensive  results  in  the  succeeding 
epoch. 

No  sooner  did  the  insurgent  troops  appear  in  the  field  than 
they  were  completely  routed  by  the  veteran  soldiers  of  tlio 
king,  whose  superiority  in  discipline  more  than  counter-bal- 
anced their  inferior  numbers.  Tlie  latter  are  said  to  have 
amounted  to  about  four  thousand  men,  and  Joab,  David's 
general,  was  at  their  head.  David  absented  himself  from 
the  battle,  in  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  his  own  army, 
who  thought  that  a  mishap  to  the  king  would  carry  with  it 
their  own  destruction.  They  valued  him  highl}^  and  wished 
to  spare  him ;  his  son,  however,  fonnd  no  mercy  with  them. 
To  the  deep  grief  of  his  father,  Absalom  was  slain  by  Joab. 
The  result,  however,  did  but  lead  to  new  perplexities.  By 
this  victory  David  became  once  more  king  of  the  combined 
kingdom.  It  was  his  own  wish  to  connect  himself  princi- 
pally with  Judali,  whose  ciders,  again  won  over  to  liis  cause. 


ADONIJAH.  51 

came  to  meet  him  and  conducted  him  back  to  Jerusalem. 
He  might  count  also  on  the  support  of  Benjamin.  The  re- 
maining ten  tribes,  however,  murmured  at  this  preference ; 
they  too  could  claim  a  share  in  the  monarchy.  This  move- 
ment also  was  repressed  by  Joab,  and  the  most  prominent 
leader  of  the  insurgents  was  murdered  in  the  town  in  which 
he  had  taken  refuge.  Tiie  inhabitants  Avere  not  prepared  to 
give  up  their  city  to  devastation  on  his  account,  and  threw 
his  head  over  the  battlements  at  Joab's  feet.  Further,  the 
old  quarrel  with  the  house  of  David's  predecessor  was  dis- 
posed of  by  a  combination  of  violence  and  clemency.  All 
those  who  were  responsible  for  the  breach  of  the  old  cove- 
nants with  the  Gibeonites  were  delivered  np  to  them ;  the  im- 
mediate posterity  of  Jonathan,  however,  still  enjoyed  protec- 
tion, and  the  mortal  remains  of  Saul  and  Jonathan  were  car- 
ried to  the  hereditary  sepulchre  of  their  family  in  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin. 

In  short,  the  power  which  had  given  the  kingdom  a  centre 
of  imion  had  subjugated  the  nations  of  kindred  race,  had 
shown  a  bold  front  to  the  enemies  of  the  country,  and  had 
finally  subdued  a  wealthy  region  beyond  the  scene  of  all  these 
complications.  It  had  united  the  two  ideas  of  Jehovah  and 
the  monarchy,  and  now  contrived  also  to  maintain  its  ground 
against  the  reactionary  movements  from  within. 

Scarcely  were  these  results  attained  when  the  question  of 
tlie  succession  in  the  house  of  Jesse  once  more  came  into 
prominence.  Adonijah,  the  eldest  and  superficially  the  most 
gifted  of  the  sons  of  David,  made  preparations  to  assure  him- 
self of  the  regal  power  in  his  father's  lifetime.  The  king 
had  connived  at  his  taking  several  preliminary  steps  to  this 
end,  and  at  length  Adonijah  invited  his  friends  to  a  banquet 
designed  at  the  same  time  to  inaugurate  the  succession.  He 
had  on  his  side  the  grandees  of  the  realm,  Joab,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief, and  Abiatliar,  one  of  the  two  high-priests, 
the  representative  of  the  second  line  in  the  Aaronic  succes- 
sion, that  of  Ithamar,  which  had  displaced  the  elder  branch. 
He  was  joined  also  by  the  king's  other  sons,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Solomon,  the  youngest. 

But  around  Solomon  and  his  mother  Bathsheba  another 


52  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

combination  was  formed.  Joab,  indeed,  took  the  part  of 
Adonijah ;  not  so,  however,  the  armed  retinue  of  the  king. 
The  Book  of  Kings  says  that  the  king's  "  mighty  men,"  no 
doubt  those  Jewish  prietorians  wlio  had  the  executive  in 
their  hands,  had  not  been  tampered  with  by  Adonijali.  Their 
captain,  Benaiab,  and  the  second  high-priest,  the  head  of  the 
elder  line  of  succession,  were  against  Adonijali  and  in  favor 
of  Solomon.  Moreover,  this  party  had  what  the  other  lacked, 
the  support  of  a  prophet.  At  an  earlier  period  David  had 
been  in  a  certain  sense  prophet  as  well  as  king ;  now,  how- 
ever, Nathan  appeared,  and  through  his  address  the  king  was 
gained  in  favor  of  the  succession  of  his  youngest  son.  The 
fact  of  most  weight  in  determining  the  issue  was  that  the 
conception  of  the  prophetic  office,  which  had  been  realized 
in  the  son  of  Jesse  and  had  helped  him  to  attain  so  exalted 
a  position,  would  have  been  thrust  into  the  background  by 
Adonijah,  who  claimed  the  throne  by  right  of  primogeniture, 
whilst  it  secured  complete  and  predominant  influence  upon 
the  elevation  of  Solomon.  So  thought  the  body-guard  of 
the  king,  who  now  joined  the  party  of  the  prophet,  under 
their  captain,  Benaiah,  a  man  entirely  devoted  to  the  cause ; 
for  the  conduct  of  the  commander-in-chief  had  been  in  the 
highest  degree  arbitrary,  and  he  had  much  blood  to  answer 
for,  with  which  the  new  government  refused  to  be  burdened. 
Consequently  the  king,  who  was  always  wavering  between 
conflicting  influences,  pronounced  for  the  youngest  of  his 
sons.  Solomon  was  anointed  by  the  second  high-priest,  Zadok, 
acting  under  the  protection  of  Benaiah.  The  body-guard 
gathered  round  the  king's  state  mule,  upon  which  Solomon 
rode  up  the  ascent  to  the  tabernacle.  The  aged  hero  David, 
that  union  of  violence  and  magnanimity,  of  ideal  exaltation 
and  practical  experience,  vanishes  from  the  scene,  and  his 
death  soon  afterwards  follows. 

In  the  struggle  of  the  two  parties  Solomon  rose  to  power. 
Adonijah  was  at  first  spared,  but  when  he  aspired  to  a  mar- 
riage which  would  have  caused  the  people  to  regard  him  as 
the  king's  successor  he  was  put  to  death.  Joab  fell  by  the 
baud  of  Benaiah,  although  he  had  grasped  the  horns  of  the 
altar.     The  high-priest,  Abiathar,  was  banished  from  the  city, 


ACCESSION  OF  SOLOMON.  53 

and  the  supreme  priestly  dignity  returned  to  the  line  which 
had  originally  enjoyed  it,  and  which  till  recently  had  trans- 
mitted it  in  hereditary  succession.  Solomon  thus  became 
possessed  of  the  kingdom,  though  in  a  somewhat  irregular 
manner.  He  could  not,  however,  maintain  his  father's  posi- 
tion to  its  full  extent.  It  was  probably  at  the  very  com- 
mencement of  his  reign  that  he  lost  Damascus,  a  loss  which, 
though  it  might  not  be  disadvantageous  to  the  central  prov- 
inces of  Israel,  was  destined  as  time  went  on  to  be  more  and 
more  sensibly  felt.  Damascus  then  fell  into  the  hands  of  an 
Aramaic  chieftain,  who  forthwith  became  one  of  Solomon's 
opponents.  But  Solomon  took  care  to  secure  control  over 
the  great  commercial  roads,  as  far  as  they  passed  through  his 
territories,  by  protecting  them  with  fortified  places.  It  may 
be  doubted  whether  he  founded  Tadmor,  in  the  Syrian  wil- 
derness ;  but  it  is  indisputable  that  he  devoted  the  greatest 
possible  attention  to  his  commercial  relations..  It  is  distinc- 
tive of  Solomon  that  he  endeavored  to  secure  himself  less 
by  means  of  war  than  by  friendly  relations  with  his  neigh- 
bors. He  allied  himself  in  marriage  with  the  daughter  of 
a  Pharaoh,  probably  the  last  Pharaoh  of  the  twenty -first 
dynasty,  who  even  resigned  to  him  several  stations  of  impor- 
tance, so  that  he  was  safe  from  hostile  interference  on  the 
side  of  Egypt.  He  also  formed  an  intimate  alliance  with 
Tyre,  an  alliance  which  put  him  in  a  position  to  take  part,  in 
conjunction  with  the  Phoenicians,  in  the  general  commerce  of 
the  world  by  way  of  Idumaea. 

Thus  in  possession  of  a  peaceful  and  assured  dominion,  he 
set  his  hand  to  the  work  which  has  made  his  name  famous 
for  all  time,  the  building  of  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  The 
preparations  which  he  made  for  this  recall  the  compulsory 
service  which  was  laid  in  past  times  upon  the  subjects  of  the 
Pharaohs  in  the  erection  of  the  pyramids  and  of  the  temples 
of  Thebes.  But  times  were  indeed  changed;  the  Israelites 
were  now  themselves  building  a  great  sanctuary  to  that  God 
who  had  redeemed  them  from  the  service  of  the  Egyptian 
deities.  They  had  become  a  powerful  and  independent  na- 
tion. The  prophet  Nathan  is  probably  to  be  regarded  as  the 
originator  of  the  idea ;  it  was  he  who  removed  the  scruples 


54:  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

which  might  have  been  derived  from  the  arrangements  hith- 
erto prevailing,  especially  the  migrations  of  the  tabernacle 
from  one  tribe  to  another.  To  him  also  belongs,  it  would 
appear,  the  idea  that  King  David  liimself,  who  had  mounted 
to  power  through  war  and  bloodshed,  was  not  to  build  the 
Temple,  but  to  leave  the  work  to  his  son.  The  victories  to 
which  the  prophetic  office  had  so  largely  contributed  had 
first  to  be  won.  The  task  of  building  the  Temple  harmo- 
nized with  the  kingdom  of  peace  which  Solomon  established. 
The  Temple  is  a  monument  of  the  combination  which  was 
effected  in  Judah  between  the  hereditary  monarchy  and  the 
religious  idea.  The  huge  blocks  of  stone  which  Solomon 
brought  from  a  distance  to  form  a  firm  foundation  are  sup- 
posed to  be  still  distinguishable.  Timber  was  obtained  from 
the  cedar  forests,  with  the  assistance  of  the  skilful  artificers 
of  Tyre.  In  the  Temple  the  principal  component  parts  of 
the  tabernacle — namely,  the  holy  place,  or  the  cella,  and  the 
holy  of  holies,  the  sanctuary  —  reappeared,  but  the  dimen- 
sions, height,  length,  and  breadth,  were  doubled.  The  holy 
of  holies  was,  as  in  the  Egyptian  temples,  lower  than  the 
cella.  In  the  former  was  placed  the  ark  of  the  covenant  with 
the  two  tables  of  the  law  from  Sinai.  On  the  entablature  of 
the  walls  were  seen  the  cherubim  with  outstretched  wings, 
the  symbol  of  the  power  and  immediate  presence  of  Jehovah. 
The  porch  was  an  innovation  upon  the  plan  of  the  tabernacle. 
Tlie  whole  building  thus  consisted  of  the  porch,  the  holy 
place,  and  the  holy  of  holies,  with  relative  proportions  cor- 
responding to  those  which  were  observed  in  the  other  tem- 
ples of  antiquity.  Two  stately  pillars  adorned  the  entrance, 
like  the  obelisks  before  the  Egyptian  temples. 

To  the  translation  of  the  ark  into  the  new  sanctuary  the 
kinjr  invited  the  elders  of  the  tribes  and  the  heads  of  the 
most  distinguished  houses ;  the  function  itself  was  assigned 
to  priests  and  Levites.  There  is  something  of  the  Pharaoh 
in  King  Solomon.  Compulsory  service  in  his  architectural 
■works  fell  specially  upon  the  remnants  of  the  old  Canaanitish 
population.  Many  of  the  Israelites  took  part  in  the  govern- 
ment, and  the  rest  enjoyed  peaceful  days,  each  man  under 
his  own  vino  and  fig-tree.    Solomon's  administration  of  jus- 


REIGN  OF  SOLOMON.  55 

tice  united  insight  with  authority.  In  him  are  combined  the 
characteristics  which,  in  all  ages,  have  distinguished  the  great 
monarchs  of  the  East. 

His  building  of  the  Temple,  the  flourishing  state  of  his 
kingdom,  and  the  fame  of  his  profound  wisdom  obtained  him 
even  in  his  lifetime  marks  of  homage  from  far  and  near.  It 
sounds  almost  like  an  Eastern  tale  of  later  times  when  we 
read  that  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  a  region  of  Arabia  Felix,  dis- 
tinguished by  its  rare  products  and  its  commercial  prosperity, 
made  a  voyage  to  visit  the  King  Solomon  of  whom  she  had 
lieard  by  universal  report;  yet  the  story  rests  upon  historical 
evidence.  She  laid  before  him  questions  which  in  her  own 
mind  pressed  in  vain  for  solution.  Solomon  was  able  to 
satisfy  her  on  every  point.  Then  she  was  shown  the  splendid 
and  decorous  arrangements  of  his  court,  and  the  sacrifices 
which  he  offered  to  his  God.  She  exclaimed  that,  much  as 
she  had  heard  of  Solomon,  it  was  but  the  half  of  that  which 
she  now  saw  with  her  own  eyes.  She  pronounced  the  people 
happy  who  possessed  such  a  king,  and  praised  Jehovah  for 
having  chosen  him  to  be  king  over  Israel. 

So  runs  the  account  in  the  sober  and  trustworthy  record 
of  the  Book  of  Kings.  Solomon's  government  manifested 
a  cosmopolitan  character,  but  ceased  to  correspond  to  the 
national  conceptions.  A  disposition  such  as  Solomon's  was 
ill  adapted  to  move  unswervingly  along  the  lines  to  which 
the  development  of  the  religion  of  Jehovah  had  hitherto 
been  strictly  confined.  His  close  alliance  with  neighboring 
rulers,  his  marriage  with  a  daughter  of  the  Pharaoh,  were  in- 
compatible with  that  religion.  Moreover,  the  harem  which 
Solomon  at  the  same  time  established  for  himself  introduced 
from  the  neighboring  nations  foreign  religious  rites,  which 
had  to  be  tolerated.  Nothing  is  said  of  Egyptian  rites ;  but 
the  emblems  of  the  Sidonian  Astarte  found  a  place  on  the 
heights  of  Jerusalem,  and  even  Moloch  himself  and  the  fire- 
god,  Chemosh,  were  revived  once  more.  This  may,  perhaps, 
have  been  a  necessary  condition  of  peaceful  government ; 
but  it  could  not  have  been  acceptable  to  the  schools  of  the 
prophets,  which  Samuel  had  founded  for  the  maintenance  of 
the  strict  worship  of  Jehovah.     The  principle  of  hereditary 


56  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

monarchy  had  not  yet  struck  firm  roots  in  the  convictions 
of  the  people.  Even  in  Solomon's  lifetime  a  prophet  marked 
out  a  man  as  his  successor  who  belonged  to  another  house 
and  tribe,  for  to  Solomon  himself  the  continuance  of  the  su- 
premacy in  his  line  had  been  granted  only  upon  the  condition 
that  he  did  not  walk  after  any  other  gods.  This  condition  he 
did  not  fulfil. 

The  tumultuary  spirit  which  had  been  excited  on  the  de- 
cisive victories  of  David  had  never  been  wholly  suppressed. 
Upon  the  death  of  the  wise  and  wealthy  king  it  unexpected- 
ly broke  out.  The  ten  tribes  were  tired  of  a  monarchy  in 
the  authority  of  which  they  had  no  share,  and  by  which  they 
were  only  controlled.  The  splendor  which  encircled  the 
throne  did  not  dazzle  them.  But  more  than  this :  with  the 
death  of  Solomon  the  political  connection  was  broken  which 
had  been  the  distinctive  advantage  of  his  reign,  and  the 
Pharaohs  severed  themselves  from  his  house.  Among  the 
Israelites  an  opponent  of  the  dynasty  had  already  started 
up,  an  Ephraimite  named  Jeroboam,  who  had  assisted  King 
Solomon  in  levying  compulsory  service  and  in  his  works  of 
building.  In  so  doing  he  had,  according  to  an  old  tradition,* 
which  it  is  impossible  to  reject,  betra^'ed  ambitious  designs 
upon  the  supremacy,  and,  being  on  that  account  persecuted 
and  menaced  by  Solomon,  had  taken  refuge  in  Egypt.  He 
had  already  been  designated  by  the  prophet  as  the  future 
king.  In  Egypt  he  espoused  Ano,  the  sister-in-law  of  the 
new  Pharaoh.  She  played  an  important  part  in  the  seraglio, 
and  Jeroboam  and  the  Pharaoh  were  brought  into  the  closest 
alliance.  The  successor  of  Solomon,  Rehoboam,  was  the 
son  not  of  his  Egyptian  wife,  but  of  an  Ammonitess.  "With 
the  acquiescence,  if  not  with  the  support,  of  the  Pharaoh, 
Jeroboam,  upon  the  death  of  Solomon,  returned  to  Mount 
Ephraim.  Hero  the  tribes  which  had  only  been  compelled 
by  the  military  ascendency  of  Joab  to  obey  King  David  as- 
sembled themselves.  Their  meeting-place  was  Sychera,  the 
spot  in  which  the  memory  of  Jacob  and  Joseph  was  specially 

♦  It  is  preserved  in  the  Scptuagint,  which  deserves  thorough  consid- 
eration aa  an  independent  authority,  side  by  side  with  the  Hebrew  text. 


REHOBOAM.  57 

cherished.  They  were  determined  to  refuse  allegiance  to 
the  son  of  Solomon  unless  he  promised  them  an  easier  gov- 
ernment. Ttehoboam  came  in  person  to  Sychem,  where  the 
demand  that  he  should  lighten  his  father's  yoke,  with  its  im- 
plied menace,  was  laid  before  him.  He  called  together  the 
elders  of  the  people,  to  consult  over  the  answer  which  he 
should  give — the  elders,  that  is,  certainly  of  the  tribes  op- 
posed to  him,  but  probably  also  of  those  centred  round  Jeru- 
salem. The  elders  now  unanimously  advised  him  to  do  jus- 
tice to  the  expectations  of  the  people.  But  neither  Reho- 
boam  himself  nor  the  courtiers  and  companions  of  his  youth 
would  hear  of  the  least  concession.  Their  answer  made  it 
clear  that  an  aggravation  rather  than  alleviation  of  the  bur- 
dens already  existing  was  to  be  expected.  If  the  people 
resisted  they  should  be  punished,  not  with  whips,  but  with 
scorpions,  that  is,  rods  of  knotted  wood  furnished  with  barbs, 
producing  a  wound  like  the  bite  of  a  scorpion. 

As  the  tribes  which  liad  formerly  been  brought  to  acknowl- 
edge David  had  done  so  only  on  the  terms  of  a  covenant, 
they  were  not  inclined  to  tolerate  patiently  the  continuance 
of  the  despotic  government  which  had  been  subsequently  in- 
troduced. They  repeated  what  they  had  said  on  an  earlier 
occasion,  that  between  them  and  the  house  of  Jesse  in  the 
tribe  of  Judah  there  was  nothing  in  common.  They  did  not 
consider  themselves  mere  subjects.  Exasperated  at  the  an- 
swer they  had  received,  they  rose,  according  to  the  most  trust- 
worthy account,  like  one  man.  The  cry  of  revolt  was  heard, 
"  To  your  tents,  O  Israel !"  a  cry  destined  to  be  re-echoed  at 
great  crises  in  later  times.  It  was  this  cry  which  preluded 
the  rebellion  of  the  English  against  Charles  I.,  a  rebellion 
to  which  are  to  be  traced  the  constitutional  governments 
of  modern  days.  In  the  ancient  time  of  wliich  we  are  writ- 
ing the  cry  was  decisive  for  the  destiny  of  Israel. 

Whilst  it  still  resounded  Rehoboara  mounted  his  chariot  to 
betake  himself  to  Jerusalem.  There  he  met  with  the  recog- 
nition which  David  and  Solomon  had  enjoyed  before  him, 
and  made  preparations  to  overpower  the  revolted  tribes  in  a 
great  campaign.  Again,  however,  a  prophet  came  forward, 
who  opposed  this  project ;  Shemaiah  warned  the  king  and  his 


58  THE  TWELVE  TRIBES  OF  ISRAEL. 

people  against  waging  war  upon  their  brethren.  The  breach, 
however,  which  had  manifested  itself  at  S^'cheiu  remained 
unhealed.  The  leader  of  the  insurrection,  Jeroboam,  now 
came  forward  as  king  of  the  ten  tribes.  If  the  Israelites  had 
remained  united  among  themselves,  and  had  improved  the  po- 
sition they  had  gained,  they  would  have  maintained  their  as- 
cendency in  the  regions  of  Western  Asia.  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  this  could  only  have  been  brought  about  under 
a  rigorous  and  unscrupulous  government  such  as  Israel  was 
no  longer  willing  to  endure.  There  is  always  a  difficulty  in 
reconciling  the  political  aggrandizement  of  a  prince  with  the 
necessary  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  population,  for  increase 
of  power  may  very  easily  become  an  intolerable  burden  to  the 
nation.  The  ten  tribes,  in  renouncing  obedience  to  the  mon- 
archy so  recently  established,  not  only  impaired  its  position, 
but  imperilled  their  own  securit3\ 

High  merit  must  be  attributed  to  the  Books  of  Samuel  and 
of  Kings  as  a  picture  of  secular  and,  if  we  ma}^  use  the  word, 
political  history.  They  sketch  with  incomparable  skill  the 
steps  by  which  a  people,  assailed  on  all  sides,  changes  its  con- 
stitution, renounces  the  republican  form,  and  subjects  itself 
to  the  concentrated  power  of  monarchy.  The  natural  opposi- 
tion between  spiritual  impulses  and  those  tendencies  towards 
complete  independence,  which  are  inherent  in  the  temporal 
power,  is  here  exhibited  in  a  form  symbolical  for  all  times. 
King  Saul  is  a  great  and  unapproachable  presence,  a  character 
unique  in  its  kind,  yet,  historically  considered,  quite  intelli- 
gible. In  his  struggle  with  Samuel  we  may  see  foreshadowed 
the  German  Emperor  confronting  the  Papacy.  So  also  the 
two  kings,  the  warlike  and  impetuous  David,  the  wise  and 
peaceful  Solomon,  are  prototypes  for  all  succeeding  centuries. 
In  Eehoboam  and  Jeroboam,  again,  appears  the  feud  between 
central  power  and  provincial  independence,  a  feud  subsequent- 
ly repeated  a  thousand  times.  Yet  these  characters  have  not 
been  devised  as  prototypes ;  they  wear  every  appearance  of 
historical  reality,  and  are  at  once  a  delightful  and  a  ]>rofitablo 
study. 


Chaptee  III. 

TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

The  genuine  historical  character  wliich  we  recognize  in  the 
story  of  Israel  as  given  in  the  Book  of  books  makes  the 
absence  of  similar  records  in  the  case  of  the  neighboring  na- 
tions all  the  more  marked.  There  is  extant  an  ethnographical 
document,  the  so-called  List  of  Nations,  which  perhaps  does 
not  really  belong  to  the  very  early  times  to  which  it  is  as- 
signed, but  which  enables  us  to  conceive  the  wa}^  in  which 
Israel  fiirni'ed  to  itself  the  human  race  and  its  several  nation- 
alities,  probably  in  the  time  of  the  judges  or  of  Samuel. 

It  is  quite  in  harmony  with  the  religious  idea  of  Judaism 
that  in  this  enumeration  there  is  no  trace  of  contempt  for 
what  is  foreign,  no  marked  separation  into  nations  of  kindred 
stock  and  barbarians.  All  nations  appear  in  it  as  equal,  free, 
and  akin  to  one  another  through  their  common  ancestor,  who 
is  not  Adam,  but  Noah.  This  much  is  signiiied  by  the  gene- 
alogy which  derives  tlie  nations  of  the  world  from  Noah's  three 
sons.  We  must  content  ourselves  with  noticing  generally  the 
extent  of  the  liorizon  here  revealed.* 

In  one  direction  Southern  Arabia  was  known  to  the  Israel- 
ites, probably  through  the  sea  voyages  of  the  Egyptians,  such 
as  those  which  are  depicted  on  the  monuments.  In  the  other 
direction,  through  the  voyages  of  the  Phoenicians,  they  had 
become  acquainted,  at  least  by  hearsay,  with  the  lands  of  the 
Caucasus  and  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  List  of 
Nations  shows  they  had   some  notion  of  the  tribes   of  the 

*  We  need  not  concern  ourselves  with  the  divergences  between  the 
separate  versions  of  this  list  discovered  by  a  critical  examination  of  the 
text  (Dillmann,  "  Genesis,"  p.  174).  Even  the  latest  of  these  versions  dates 
from  extreme  antiquity. 


60  TYEE  AND  ASSUR. 

Caucasus,  of  some  commercial  populations  on  the  Black  Sea, 
of  the  islands  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  perhaps  also  of  Gaul 
and  Spain,  signified  by  Rodanini  and  Tarshish ;  but  we  can 
scarcely  suppose  that  they  were  really  acquainted  with  all  the 
reorions  and  the  inhabitants  included  within  these  extreme 
limits. 

They  were  well  acquainted  with  Egypt,  Libya,  Ethiopia, 
and  the  countries  round  the  Euphrates,  Elam,  Shinar,  and  prob- 
ably also  Assyria.  The  Hebrews  were  closely  connected  witli 
the  Phoenicians,  by  nationality,  situation,  and  intercourse. 
The  views  of  the  former  had  been  originally  directed  to  the 
occupation  of  the  whole  country,  inclusive  of  the  coast  line. 
But  here  a  power  had  been  formed  of  a  character  different 
from  that  of  the  Canaanitish  kingdoms  in  general ;  and  this 
power,  like  that  of  the  Philistines,  they  were  unable  to  sub- 
due. The  coast  line  winds  considerabl}^,  and  its  inlets  gave 
shelter  to  a  thriving  and  industrious  nation  of  artisans  and 
seamen.  The  promontories  form  safe  natural  harbors,  in 
which  from  early  times  maritime  settlements  were  established. 
Of  all  these  Sidon  was  the  oldest,  and  from  it  originally  the 
whole  nation  derived  its  name.  Tyre  comes  next  in  date; 
but  it  does  not  appear  that  Tyre  was  a  colony  from  Sidon, 
though  indeed  the  ancients  assumed  it  to  be  so.  Had  there 
been  this  relationship  of  colony  and  parent  state  it  would 
have  been  consecrated  by  religion,  and  would  have  left  its 
traces  in  monuments  other  than  those  which  are  actually 
found. 

The  whole  coast  is  better  adapted  than  any  other  in  the 
world  for  long  sea  voyages.  The  wind  seems  to  blow  as  if 
by  design  in  the  direction  of  Cyprus  and  Rhodes,  whence  com- 
munication with  Egypt  is  easy.  Thence  a  current  sets  north- 
ward along  the  coast,  and  facilitates  the  return  voyage  to  Phce- 
nicia.  Aided  by  these  natural  advantages,  Phoenician  mer- 
chants swarmed  at  an  early  date  in  the  eastern  basin  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Later  on,  Tyre  pushed  into  the  western  gulf, 
reached  Gades,  and  founded  Carthage.  Gradually  the  Phoeni- 
cian coast  became  the  metropolis  of  the  trade  between  East 
and  West.  From  her  commerce  Phoenicia  derived  great  polit- 
ical importance.     We  have  already  mentioned  how  Babylon 


COMMERCE.  Qi 

and  the  east  of  Phoenicia  joined  hands  at  Damascus.  The 
words  Phoenician  and  Punic  are  identical,  especially  for  the 
West.  In  the  East  the  Phoenicians  availed  themselves  of 
the  numerous  commercial  routes,  and  to  this  end  their  alli- 
ance with  Judaea  was  of  the  greatest  service  to  them.  The 
tribes  which  had  pushed  farthest  towards  Phoenicia  even 
became  her  dependents.  The  Temple  of  Solomon  itself  was 
only  built  with  the  assistance  of  the  Phoenicians.  Neverthe- 
less the  two  nationalities,  though  belonging  to  the  same 
ethnological  family,  remained  always  essentially  distinct  in 
character.  Israel  was  an  inland  people,  whilst  Phoenicia  had 
in  her  hands  the  whole  commerce  of  the  world  by  land  and 
sea.  At  the  time  when  the  Israelitish  monarchy  was  at  its 
greatest  power,  a  monarchical  constitution  was  introduced  in 
Tyre.  King  Hiram  was  the  friend  of  David  and  of  Solomon. 
But  when,  upon  the  death  of  Solomon,  the  schism  took  place 
in  the  kingdom  of  the  twelve  tribes,  their  nearest  neighbors, 
Egypt  and  Phoenicia,  obtained  a  preponderance  which  they 
had  not  hitherto  possessed. 

The  Pharaoh  Shishak,  who  is  regarded  as  the  founder  of 
the  twenty-second  dynasty,  and  who  had  formed  an  alliance 
with  Jeroboam,  thus  found  an  opportunity  of  waging  war 
upon  Judah.  The  great  wealth  which  had  been  accumulated 
in  the  Temple  under  Solomon  must  have  had  a  special  fasci- 
nation for  him  :  it  fell  into  his  hands,  including  all  the  golden 
shields  with  which  the  king  on  high  feast  days  delighted  to 
make  parade.  x\n  inscription  has  been  found  upon  the  outer 
wall  of  a  temple  at  Thebes,  in  which  the  Jews  are  depicted 
as  smitten  by  the  victorious  war-club  of  the  Pharaoh.*  This 
was  a  death-blow  to  the  political  power  of  Judah.  Yet  the 
influence  of  Phoenicia  upon  Israel  went  far  deeper,  being  the 
influence  not  of  arms  and  of  conquest,  but  of  morals  and  of 
religion. 

One  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  kings  over  the  ten  tribes, 
Ahab,  the  eighth  in  the  series,  whose  date  is  about  the  year 

*  Rosellini,  "  Monuraenti  Storici,"  iv.  157.  Amongst  the  towns  named 
in  the  inscription  are  to  be  distinguished  Mahanaim,  Beth-horon,  Beth- 
anoth,  and  Ramah  (Brugsch,  "  Geschichte  ^gyptens,"  p.  661  sq.).  As 
far  as  can  be  seen,  Jerusalem  is  not  mentioned. 


62  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

900,  had  married  Jezebel,  tlie  daughter  of  the  Tjrian  king 
Ethbaal  (Ithobaal),  who  had  previously  been  priest  of  Astarte. 
These  were  the  days  in  which  the  rites  of  Tyre  were  spread- 
ing and  establishing  themselves  through  her  commercial  col- 
onies in  all  parts  of  the  world.  The  daughter  of  the  king 
who  had  been  a  priest  brought  with  her  more  than  eight  hun- 
dred theophoreti,  or  priests  and  ministers  of  her  gods.  Be- 
fore these  it  seemed  as  if  the  worship  of  Jehovah  must  give 
way. 

Ahab  built  a  temple  to  Baal,  in  Samaria,  served  by  four 
hundred  priests;  he  established  an  oracle  of  Astarte  in  a 
grove  near  Jezreel,  in  a  fruitful  region  abounding  in  gardens 
laid  out  after  the  Phoenician  manner,  and  chosen  bv  Jezebel 
for  her  residence.  Here,  however,  a  violent  struggle  broke 
out  between  the  two  religions.  As  the  opponent  of  the 
queen  and  of  the  idols  of  Baal,  the  prophet  Elijah  comes  upon 
the  scene,  a  man  who  knew  no  respect  of  persons,  and  whose 
animating  principle  was  the  absolute  authority  of  religion. 
The  feeling  is  never  so  strong  as  when  religion  is  menaced 
and  compelled  to  do  battle  for  existence. 

The  queen  persecuted  the  prophets  of  Jehovah,  who  con- 
cealed themselves  in  the  caves  of  the  region,  where  bread  and 
water,  supplied  by  faithful  worshippers  of  Jehovah,  gave 
them  a  scanty  subsistence.  One  of  the  fugitive  prophets  was 
Elijah,  a  man  descended  from  the  settlers  in  Gilead ;  the 
legend  represents  him  as  having  been  fed  with  bread  and 
meat  by  ravens  at  the  brook  Kishon,  which  runs  through  the 
plain.  Again  and  again  compelled  to  flee,  he  constantly  re- 
appears, to  the  consternation  of  Ahab,  to  whom  his  presence 
is  like  the  burden  of  an  evil  conscience.  "Is  it  thou,"  says 
Ahab,  on  his  presenting  himself  once  more  before  him,  "thou 
bringer  of  destruction  to  Israel?"  "Thou,"  answers  Elijah, 
"  art  the  destroyer  of  Israel,  since  thou  hast  forsaken  Jeho- 
vah and  servest  Baal."  On  one  occasion  a  contest  between 
the  two  religions  took  place  upon  Mount  Carmel.  Elijah 
was  victorious.  lie  repaired  a  ruined  altar  of  Jehovah,  and 
fitted  it  for  a  sacrifice;  around  it  he  placed  twelve  stones, 
representing  the  twelve  tribes,  and  then  called  upon  the  God 
of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob.     The  people,  at  first  silent  and 


ELIJAH  AND  JEZEBEL.  ^3 

undecided,  came  over  to  his  side.  Jehovah,  who  consumed 
the  sacrifice  with  fire  and  gave  rain  after  long  drought, 
was  recognized  by  the  people  as  the  true  God.  A  terrible 
vengeance  was  then  taken  upon  the  ministers  of  Baal ;  they 
were,  according  to  the  literal  statement  in  the  text,  slaugh- 
tered at  the  brook  Kishon.  On  Jezebel,  however,  the  occur- 
rence produced  a  very  different  effect;  she  tlireatened  the 
prophet  incontinently  with  the  same  doom  which  had  befallen 
her  priests,  and  nothing  remained  for  him  but  a  new  flight 
into  the  wilderness.  We  find  him  in  Mount  Horeb,  the  spot 
where  the  religion  of  Jehovah  was  announced  to  the  world. 
Thence  he  returned,  convinced  that  the  worship  of  Jehovah 
was  only  to  be  rescued  by  the  re-establishment  of  a  govern- 
ment which  should  be  true  to  it.  For  a  considerable  time 
Jezebel  and  Elijah  still  confront  each  other.  The  prophet, 
in  liis  garment  of  hair  and  leathern  girdle,  passes  through  the 
land,  or  takes  his  seat  upon  some  eminence,  alone  but  unas- 
sailable. Even  the  royal  troops  are  at  length  brought  to  re- 
vere in  his  person  the  power  of  Jehovali.  In  the  midst  of 
these  struggles  he  vanishes  from  the  scene.  Tradition  makes 
liim  disappear  from  sight  in  a  chariot  and  horses  of  fire — fit- 
ting emblems  of  a  life-long  battle.  But  he  left  behind  him 
a  disciple,  Elisha,  who  accomplished  what  his  master  had 
planned. 

As  Jezebel  had  ruled  Ahab,  so,  after  his  death,  she  con- 
tinued to  rule  his  sons.  She  is  the  first  of  those  women  whom 
the  history  of  the  world  exhibits  in  league  with  the  powers  of 
darkness;  the  religion  of  Baal  and  Astarte  manifests  all  its 
effects  in  her  person.  Even  over  Judah  Jezebel  had  won  pre- 
dojninant  influence  by  the  marriage  of  her  daughter  with  the 
king's  son.  In  brief,  there  was  at  stake  at  this  time  nothing 
less  than  the  maintenance  or  the  destruction  of  the  worship 
of  Jehovah  in  both  kingdoms.  Elisha  set  himself  to  carry 
out  his  master's  purpose.  At  his  word  Jehu,  the  captain  of 
the  Israelitish  army,  was  anointed  king  with  the  magic  oil. 
He  slew  the  kings  of  Israel  and  of  Judah  with  his  own 
hand,  and  then  betook  himself  to  that  place,  consecrated  to 
Astarte,  where  Jezebel  lived.  She  saw  him  coming;  and, 
employing  an  Egyptian  cosmetic  which  made  the  eyes  appear 


04  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

larger,  she  stepped  to  the  window  in  the  ghostlike  disguise  of 
her  idolatrous  worship  as  Jehu  drew  near.  At  his  challenge 
she  was  tlirown  out  of  the  window  by  the  attendant  eunuchs, 
and  her  blood  was  sprinkled  on  the  walls.  Jehu  drove  his 
chariot  over  her  corpse.  Once  more  Jehovah  was  victorious  in 
the  person  of  His  prophets.  Elijah  triumphed  after  his  death. 
The  worship  of  Jehovah  was  saved  through  this  change  of 
dynasty,  and  Elisha  lived  forty-five  years  longer  to  support 
the  house  of  Jehu. 

A  daughter  of  Jezebel,  however,  named  Athaliah,  was  still 
living  in  Jerusalem.  She  had  erected  a  temple  of  Baal  be- 
side the  temple  of  Jehovah.  It  seemed  to  be  her  design  to 
annihilate  the  whole  house  of  David,  for  these  women  were 
as  bloodthirsty  as  the  Baal-Moloch  whom  they  worshipped. 
Only  one  scion  of  the  family  of  Jesse  had  been  saved,  a  child 
named  Joash,  who  owed  his  preservation  to  a  sister  of  King 
Ahaziah,  the  wife  of  the  high-priest,  Jehoiada.  The  high- 
priest  brought  up  the  boy  secretly  till  his  seventh  year;  then 
he  took  steps  to  overthrow  the  guilty  mother  in  his  name. 
Jehoiada  was  a  descendant  of  that  Zadok  by  whom  Solomon 
had  been  set  upon  the  throne,  and  was,  like  Zadok,  joined  by 
the  captains  of  the  body-guard.  The  young  Joash  was  already 
standing  in  the  Temple,  in  the  place  reserved  for  the  wearer 
of  the  crown.  The  people  proclaimed  him  king.  Alarmed 
by  the  uproar,  Athaliah  hastened  to  the  Temple,  and  exclaim- 
ing, "  Treason  !  treason  !"  fled  for  refuge  to  the  palace.  There 
at  the  door  she  was  slain  ;  for  in  the  sacred  precincts  they  had 
been  unwilling  to  lay  hands  upon  her,  remembering  that  she 
too  was  a  king's  daughter.  Later  writers  have  said  that  she 
had  attempted  the  murder  of  the  boy,  and  such  would  un- 
doubtedly have  been  the  result  had  she  remained  in  power. 
On  her  death,  however,  the  child  Joash  became  king  in  her 
stead.  As  the  prophet  ruled  in  Israel,  so  the  high-priest  now 
ruled  in  Judah.  The  temple  of  Baal  was  destroyed,  the 
priests  of  the  false  gods  slain,  and  there  was  a  complete  return 
to  the  usages  of  David  and  Solomon.  To  this  violent  reaction 
against  the  intrusion  of  Baal-worship  the  continued  existence 
of  the  old  religion  of  Jehovah  was  due. 

If  we  inquire  liow  events  could  have  taken  this  turn  un- 


RISE  OF  ASSYRIA.  65 

impeded,  liow  it  was  that  the  queen  and  her  family  received 
no  support  from  Tyre,  no  aid  from  the  strongholds  of  the 
Phoenician  religion,  I  affinn  without  hesitation,  unexpected 
as  the  statement  may  be,  that  it  was  the  rise  of  the  Assyrian 
monarchy,  and  the  advance  of  that  power  to  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean,  whicli  had  the  chief  share  in  producing  this 
result. 

The  ancient  world  liad  many  a  story  to  repeat  of  an  As- 
syrian monarchy,  founded,  it  was  said,  by  !N^inus  and  Semir- 
amis,  and  ending  with  Sardanapalus.  But  Semiramis  and 
Sardanapalus  are  mythical  figures.  The  name  Ninus  is  a 
personification  of  Nineveh,  a  word  which  means  "  settlement." 
These  are  tales  on  which  universal  history  cannot  dwell. 
History  discovers  in  the  first  instance  not  great  monarchies, 
but  small  tribal  districts  or  communities  of  primitive  organiza- 
tion, existing  independently  side  by  side,  each  with  its  own 
peculiarities.  The  principal  fact  revealed  to  us  by  the  ancient 
Assyrian  monuments  which  have  been  found  in  our  own 
times,  and  have  been  more  or  less  deciphered,  is  that  in  the 
tenth  and  ninth  centuries  before  our  era — the  epoch  to  which 
not  only  the  power  of  Tyre  and  the  reign  of  the  Ethiopian 
Pharaohs  in  Egypt,  but  also  the  division  of  the  kingdom  of 
Israel  into  two  groups  of  tribes,  is  to  be  assigned — there  were 
still  many  small  independent  kingdoms  on  both  sides  of  the 
Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  as  well  as  in  the  regions  round  the 
sources  of  these  two  rivers.  All  these  kingdoms  were  flourish- 
ing, wealthy,  and  securely  established.  AVherever  we  look 
we  find  monarchical  governments,  towns  more  or  less  fortified, 
national  forces,  and  accumulated  treasures.  Most  of  these  na- 
tions are  of  Semitic  origin.  Though  Babylon  may  have  been 
a  great  religious  metropolis,  local  religions  were  everywhere 
established,  which  in  a  manner  sanctified  the  local  indepen- 
dence. 
^/  Until  Assur  came  into  prominence  not  one  of  these  king- 
doms achieved  a  decided  preponderance  of  power.  They 
were  all  engaged  in  mutual  hostilities  and  petty  wars.  The 
oldest  traditions  derive  Assur  from  Babylon ;  its  importance 
in  the  world  at  large  dates  from  the  conquest  of  Nineveh,  a 
great  centre  of  commerce  between  eastern  and  western  Asia^ 


66  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

situated  in  a  position  which  at  a  later  era  was  found  specially 
suitable  for  trade.  At  an  earlier  epoch  Assur  and  Chalach, 
the  ruins  of  which  still  remain,  had  been  the  seats  of  the 
monarchy ;  gradually  Nineveh  assumed  this  position.  What 
we  learn  from  the  monuments  lately  discovered  fills  up  a  gap 
in  universal  history  which  was  always  sensibly  felt.  About 
more  remote  antiquity  we  still  lack,  it  is  true,  solid  and  trust- 
worthy information,  and  all  our  knowledge  is  fragmentary 
and  uncertain  ;  but  upon  the  period  from  the  division  of  the 
Jewish  kingdom  till  the  rise  of  the  Persians  we  possess  his- 
torical testimony  of  the  most  welcome  description. 

Never  were  there  princes  more  ambitious  to  live  to  pos- 
terity than  those  of  Assyria.  The  walls  of  their  palaces  were 
inscribed  with  an  account  of  their  exploits,  and  a  curse  was 
pronounced  upon  all  who  should  injure  this  record.  Never- 
theless they  remained  utterly  forgotten  for  two  thousand 
years,  till  they  were  brought  to  light  again  by  the  science  of 
Europe.  It  is  with  keen  interest  that  we  undertake  a  reca- 
pitulation of  the  contents  of  these  inscriptions,  as  far  as  they 
are  ascertained,  always  with  the  proviso  that  they  await  fur- 
ther study  to  confirm  and  amplify  them. 

First  and  foremost,  then,  we  come  upon  the  evidences  of 
a  firm  alliance,  but  a  no  less  constant  rivalry,  with  Babylon. 
Mention  is  made  of  a  king  who  leaves  behind  him  two  sons, 
one  of  whom  rules  in  Assur,  the  other  in  Babel.  In  Babel 
we  have  evidence  of  the  struggle  between  this  power  and  the 
original  inhabitants,  called  Akkad  and  Sumir,  who  are  as- 
sumed to  have  belonged  to  the  Turanian  stock.  The  king 
Hammurabi  boasts  tliat  Bin  and  Bel,  the  gods  of  his  own 
branch  of  the  human  family,  have  given  tliese  nations  into  his 
hand,  and  that  he  has  been  the  first  to  make  the  country  habit- 
able by  means  of  a  system  of  embankments.  Yet  the  assist- 
ance of  Assur  was  always  necessary  to  keep  the  inhabitants  in 
subjection,  and  to  maintain  the  hereditary  monarch  in  posses- 
sion. At  times,  indeed,  kings  of  Babylon  come  forward,  who 
make  inroads  into  Assur,  but  they  are  always  defeated  in  the 
end,  and  Assur  still  remains  in  the  ascendant.  Then  follow 
compacts,  marriage  alliances,  and  after  an  interval  fresh  dis- 
sensions and  fresh  wars. 


ASSUR-NASIR-HABAL.  67 

It  is  ill  the  first  half  of  the  ninth  century  b.c.  that  the 
Assyrian  king  who  may  be  regarded  as  the  real  founder  of 
the  greatness  of  Assyria  comes  on  the  scene.  He  was  not 
without  forerunners  in  his  undertakings ;  he  praises  one  of 
his  predecessors  as  a  man  without  equal  among  the  kings  of 
the  four  quarters  of  the  earth,  but  even  that  monarch's  glory 
is  eclipsed  by  his  own.  This  great  king  was  Assur-nasir-habal, 
the  prince  from  wliose  palace  were  obtained  most  of  those 
relics  of  Assyria  which  have  found  their  way  into  the  mu- 
seums of  Europe.  We  cannot  pass  by  the  inscription  in  which 
ho  describes  his  exploits  without  giving  its  purport  as  far  as 
it  can  be  understood.  First  of  all,  Assur-nasir-habal  mentions 
the  consolidation  of  his  power  and  authority  in  the  Babylonish 
provinces,  especially  in  Kardunias,  the  land  of  the  Chaldees, 
a  result  which  he  attributes  to  the  terror  of  his  name.  Then 
follows  a  hazardous  campaign  against  Kairi,  a  district  which 
is  to  be  found  perhaps  in  the  mountain  region  in  which  the 
Tigris  rises.  Its  inhabitants  obeyed  a  number  of  separate 
chieftains.  The  king  of  Assyria  imposes  a  tribute  upon  them, 
consisting  of  silver  and  gold,  chariots  and  horses,  and  all  kinds 
of  supplies,  and  establishes  a  deputy  in  those  parts.  An  in- 
surrection breaks  out,  which  gives  the  king  once  more  a  pre- 
text for  invading  the  country.  He  takes  the  towns,  hunts  out 
the  fugitives  in  their  mountains,  and  kills  many  of  their 
people.  He  exhibits  the  violent  spirit  of  a  conqueror  who 
thinks  himself  justified  in  punishing  insurrection  with  the  ut- 
most severity.  lie  mentions  also  neighboring  populations, 
over  whom  he  has  poured  himself  forth  ^'like  the  God  of  the 
Flood."  He  erects  pyramids  of  the  heads  of  the  slain,  as  did 
the  Mongolian  Khans  at  a  later  date,  and  impales  or  crucifies 
the  conquered  insurgents. 

A  subsequent  campaign  leads  him  against  the  Sukhi,  who 
dwell  beside  the  Euphrates,  and  are  encouraged  by  the  assist- 
ance of  their  neighbors,  th6  Chatti,  to  attack  him.  We  here 
see  exhibited  the  whole  plan  and  progress  of  the  war.  The 
enemy  are  well  equipped  and  have  courageous  leaders.  The 
first  pitched  battle  is  indecisive.  But  the  king  of  Assyria 
succeeds  in  occupying  the  capital,  where  many  of  the  con- 
federates fall  into  his  hands.     Among  the  spoil  which  he 


68  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

acquires  arc  found  war  chariots,  articles  of  male  attire,  and 
abundance  of  gold  and  silver.  The  terror  of  his  arms  spreads 
far  and  wide,  amid  signs  of  universal  subjection.  Soon,  how- 
ever, the  king  is  summoned  back  by  a  new  insurrection.  He 
again  conquers  the  enemy  and  their  confederates,  destroys  and 
burns  the  towns,  and  takes  away  some  of  the  inhabitants  with 
liim  to  Assyria.  He  builds  several  fortresses  to  replace  the 
towns. 

The  names  exhibited  in  the  inscriptions  belong  to  an  almost 
unknown  world,  only  drawn  within  the  horizon  of  history  at 
a  later  date.  But  it  is  a  most  important  fact  that  the  Assyrian 
conquests  were  pushed  without  interruption  until  they  reached 
the  scene  of  all  the  movements  and  conflicts  between  race  and 
race  which  had  hitherto  affected  the  course  of  universal  history. 

Assur-nasir-habal  once  more  makes  an  expedition,  in  which 
he  marches  as  far  as  the  Orontes  and  subdues  the  fortified 
places  which  offer  resistance;  he  subjugates  in  person  the 
most  powerful  chieftain,  and  settles  his  Assyrians  in  the 
principal  localities.  Then  he  crosses  Lebanon,  reaches  the 
Mediterranean,  and  compels  Tyre,  Sidon,  and  other  towns  to 
pay  him  tribute.  Here,  too,  he  offers  sacrifice  to  liis  gods,  and 
causes  cedars  to  be  felled  in  Amanus,  to  be  employed  in  the 
temples  which  lie  is  constructing  at  Nineveh  in  lienor  of 
Astarte.  Thus,  between  the  capitals  situated  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tigris  and  those  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean, 
through  districts  inhabited  by  subject  nations,  a  lasting  con- 
nection was  formed,  achieved  by  war  and  conquest. 

I  think,  then,  that  the  retrograde  movement  of  the  Tyrian 
Baal-worship  in  Israel  and  Judah*  is  to  be  connected  with 
this  advance  of  the  Assyrians,  extending  to  the  Phoenician 

♦  Assur-nasir-habaVs  date  is  fixed  at  882-857.  To  determine  the  reign 
of  Jehu  we  must  make  it  our  starting-point  that  its  commencement  is  fixed 
98  years  after  the  division  of  the  kingdom,  which,  according  to  tlic  tiible 
of  the  Israelitish  kings,  if  we  reckon  back  from  the  carrying  away  of  the 
ten  tribes  in  the  year  722,  falls  in  the  year  902;  consequently  the  begin- 
ning of  Jehu's  reign  fulls  in  the  year  804.  He  reigned  28  years— that  is, 
till  830.  This  so  far  agrees  tvith  the  results  of  Assyriological  inquiry 
that  in  an  inscription  of  the  year  843  (841)  Jehu  is  said  to  be  mentioned 
OS  a  vassal  of  Salmanassar. 


ASSUR-NASIR-HABAL.  ^9 

towns.  The  divinities  of  Tyre  could  not  be  expected  to  sub- 
due Israel  while  they  were  experiencing  a  great  loss  of  prestige 
in  their  own  home.  This  appearance,  in  the  first  half  of  the 
ninth  century  b.c,  of  a  power  advancing  irresistibly  from  the 
heart  of  Asia  towards  the  West  is  an  event  of  immeasurable 
importance  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Phoenicia,  situated 
as  she  was  on  the  fringe  of  the  mountain  ranges,  could  not 
liold  her  ground  when  a  superior  power  became  master  of 
the  hill  country  itself,  and  deprived  her  of  the  primary  con- 
dition of  her  independence.  The  situation  recalls  King  David 
to  our  mind.  If  the  Israelites  had  succeeded  in  keeping 
Damascus  and  concluding  a  close  alliance  with  the  maritime 
towns,  it  would  have  been  possible  to  drive  the  Assyrians  back 
within  their  own  borders.  AVith  tlie  dissolution  of  the  Israel- 
itisli  kingdom  into  two  portions,  one  of  which  had  yielded  to 
the  Egyptian  arms,  the  other  to  the  Phoenician  idolatry,  this 
had  become  impossible.  Damascus,  after  freeing  itself  from 
Solomon,  had  become  an  independent  power  which  proved 
more  than  a  match  for  the  Israelites  in  their  turn.  Whilst, 
however,  the  two  powers  were  endeavoring  by  sanguinary  wars 
to  settle  the  question  whether  Jehovah  was  merely  a  God  of 
the  hills,  as  the  Syrians  maintained,  or  whether  He  could  also 
win  a  battle  on  the  plain,  the  great  kingdom  in  the  East  arose, 
to  which  the  combatants  were  able  to  offer  only  a  partial  and 
unavailing  resistance. 

Assur-nasir-habal,  whose  death  is  assigned  to  the  year  857, 
was  succeeded  by  Salmanassar,  distinguished  as  the  second 
king  of  this  name,  who  pushed  still  farther  in  the  direction 
of  Syria.  One  of  his  inscriptions  relates  that  in  his  sixth 
campaign  he  crossed  the  Euphrates  on  rafts  and  defeated 
Ben-hadad  (Ben-hidri)  of  Damascus,  who  was  in  alliance  with 
Hamath  and  other  neighboring  powers.  Five  years  later  a 
new  campaign  had  to  be  undertaken,  in  which  Ben-hadad, 
in  alliance  with  twelve  other  kings,  was  again  defeated  and 
compelled  to  take  to  flight.  But  this  does  not  complete  the 
conquest  of  Syria.  Ben-hadad  is  replaced  by  Hazael  (Khaza- 
ilu),  of  whom  it  is  affirmed  in  the  Hebrew  tradition  that  he 
had  long  before  been  appointed  king  of  Syria  by  Elijah,  as 
Jehu  had  been  appointed  king  of  Israel  by  Elisha.     In  the 


70  TYRE   AND  ASSUR. 

Assyrian  inscriptions  it  is  recorded  that  Hazael  goes  to  meet 
the  king  of  Assyria,  to  fight  with  hira.  He  is  admirably 
furnished  with  horses  and  war  chariots,  but  Salmanassar  con- 
quers him  and  becomes  master  of  his  camp.  This  may  be 
regarded  as  the  decisive  battle,  in  consequence  of  whicli  three 
years  later  Salmanassar  occupied  the  fortified  places  and  im- 
posed a  tribute  on  the  country.  Jehu,  king  of  Israel,  is  men- 
tioned among  his  tributaries.  On  an  obelisk  of  Salmanassar, 
at  Chalach,  the  Jews  are  seen  offering  tribute.  Salmanassar 
is  saying,  "  Bars  of  gold,  bars  of  silver,  cups  of  gold,  I  re- 
ceived." The  inscriptions  on  the  obelisk  are  supplemented 
by  others  on  two  winged  bulls.  Salmanassar  directs  his  vic- 
torious arms  towards  the  east  as  well  as  towards  the  west.  Pre- 
sented as  tribute  from  the  land  of  Muzri  are  camels,  a  rhinoc- 
eros, a'hippopotamus,  and  apes,  from  which  we  may  conclude 
that  Salmanassar  had  advanced  as  far  as  the  highlands  of  Iran. 
Thus  the  great  event  of  the  ninth  century  may  be  con- 
sidered to  be  this:  that  the  military  power  of  Assur,  after 
obtaining  the  ascendant  within  its  proper  region,  moved  on 
towards  the  west,  and  after  reducing  the  mountainous  district 
which  dominates  Phoenicia,  and  so  Phoenicia  itself,  broke  the 
military  power  of  Damascus  and  began  to  be  supreme  in 
Syria.  The  necessary  consequence  was  that  the  Assyrian 
power  obtained  a  certain  influence  upon  both  the  Israelitish 
kingdoms,  one  fraught  with  important  consequences  in  the 
immediate  future.* 

*  Ju8t  as  we  come  to  the  first  evidences  of  the  action  of  Assyria  upon 
Israel  we  encounter  an  historical  difficulty,  since  Phul — the  name  of  the 
Assyrian  king  to  whom  the  books  of  Scripture  ascribe  this  influence — 
has  not  been  discovered  in  the  cuneiform  inscriptions  of  Assyria.  An 
attempt  has  been  made  to  explain  the  name  as  resulting  from  a  miscon- 
ception of  the  middle  syllable  of  the  name  Tiglath-Pileser;  a  division  of 
government  in  the  Assyrian  monarchy  has  also  been  assumed  to  account 
for  it.  As  the  names  Phul  and  Tiglath-Pileser  are  mentioned  next  each 
other  not  only  in  the  Books  of  Kings,  but  in  the  Chronicles,  which  in- 
serts in  its  genealogical  section  an  ancient  notice  referring  to  the  disper- 
sion of  the  trilKjs,  we  can  hardly  identify  them,  especially  since  in  the 
inscription  to  which  reference  is  made  gaps  are  to  be  noticed,  which  may 
have  been  filled  by  other  names  (cf.  Von  Gutschmid,  "  Ncue  Beitrfige  zur 
Gcschichto  des  Alten  Orients,"  p.  118). 


TIGLATH-PILESER.  71 

Tbis  influence  asserted  itself  in  the  following  way.  With 
the  close  of  the  dynasty  of  Jehu  the  kingdom  of  the  ten  tribes 
fell  into  a  state  of  intestine  anarchy.  Three  princes  com- 
peted for  the  throne.  Menahem,  who  succeeded  in  making 
good  his  claim,  indulged  in  acts  of  the  greatest  violence.  We 
are  told  that  even  those  who  took  sanctuary  in  places  recog- 
nized by  the  law  were  put  to  death.  It  was  an  event  of  no 
little  importance  that  Ilosea,  whom  I  may  call,  if  not  the  first, 
at  any  rate  the  greatest  but  one  of  all  the  prophets,  abandoned 
his  unavailing  efforts  and  left  Israel  to  itself.  Then  the 
Assyrians  came  and  overran  the  land.  Menahem,  wdiora  they 
supported  in  his  claim  to  dominion,  was  nevertheless  com- 
pelled to  pay  tribute,  which  he  had  to  extort  from  the  most 
influential  of  his  own  subjects.  This  was,  in  point  of  fact,  a 
virtual  subjugation  of  Israel.  In  the  inscriptions  in  which 
Tiglath-Pileser  enumerates  the  tributary  princes,  Menahem 
appears  along  with  the  princes  of  Commagene,  Damascus, 
Tyre,  Byblus,  and  Carchemish.  It  is  the  rulers  of  Asia  Minor, 
Phoenicia,  and  Syria  who  are  cited  by  Tiglath-Pileser  as  his 
vassals.  Judah,  Edom,  and  the  Philistines  are  not  found  in 
the  list.  Yet,  with  almost  inconceivable  want  of  foresight, 
the  petty  princes  who  were  left  in  power  in  Israel  and 
Damascus, intent  only  upon  their  immediate  advantage  and 
regardless  of  the  menacing  neighborhood  of  an  irresistible 
enemy,  united  to  attack  the  king  of  Judah.  The  latter  had 
no  other  means  of  escape  except  to  league  himself  with 
Tiglath-Pileser,  to  whom  he  became  tributary,  and  thus  soon 
afterwards  his  name  is  found  added  to  the  list  of  subject 
princes.* 

Thus  about  the  middle  of  the  eighth  century  the  independ- 
ence of  both  parts  of  the  old  Israelitish  kingdom  came  virtu- 
ally to  an  end.  This  was  not  so  much  the  result  of  great 
efforts  from  without  as  of  differences  arising  between  and 
within  the  two  kingdoms.  As  soon  as  Ilosea,  the  king 
established  by  Assyria  in  Samaria,  ventured  to  refuse  the 
tribute  to  Salmanassar,  the  fourth  of  the  name,  he  was  taken 
prisoner  by   him.     Salmanassar   was   preparing   to   besiege 

*  Tiglath-Pileser  (Tukat-pal-asar)  reigned  from  745  to  737. 


72  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

Samaria,  when,  in  cousequenco  of  trouble  in  Phoenicia,  he 
was  compelled  to  divide  his  forces."'^ 

Salmanassar's  premature  death  prevented  him  from  carry- 
ing out  his  plans.  They  were  taken  in  hand  by  his  successor, 
Sargon,  who  appears  in  the  inscriptions  as  Sarkin  or  Sarrnkin. 
He  recounts  his  own  achievements  thus:  ''With  the  help 
of  the  god  Samas,  who  gives  me  victory  over  my  enemies, 
I  have  taken  the  city  of  Samaria.  I  have  made  slaves  of 
27,280  of  the  inhabitants  and  caused  them  to  be  led  away 
into  the  land  of  Assur ;  the  men  whom  my  hand  hath  sub- 
dued I  have  made  to  dwell  in  the  midst  of  my  own  subjects." 
It  is  therefore  clear  tliat  Sargon  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  real 
destroyer  of  the  kingdom  of  Samaria.  He  dealt  in  the  same 
way  with  the  regions  of  Syria  and  with  Damascus,  quelling 
the  insurrection  there  and  making  it  possible  to  settle  Arme- 
nians and  Assyrians  in  this  district  also.  It  is  a  striking  fact 
that  all  this  could  happen  without  opposition  from  Egypt,  al- 
though the  king  of  Assyria  was  thus  violently  intruding  upon 
the  scene  of  her  aggrandizement  in  times  past. 

We  possess  but  the  scantiest  information  about  the  condi- 
tion of  Egypt  at  this  epoch ;  but  it  is  indisputable  that  the 
kingdom  of  the  Ramesidae,  after  the  expedition  of  Sheshon 
against  Judah,  was  assailed  from  within  and  without  by 
changes  of  the  most  destructive  kind.  We  learn  that  the 
rulers  of  Ethiopia  added  Egypt  to  their  dominions,  but  aban- 
doned the  country  again  through  dread  of  the  power  of  the 
priests.  Then  an  intestine  struggle  broke  out  in  the  military 
caste,  which,  though  unable  to  protect  the  soil,  was  in  posses- 
sion of  a  great  portion  of  it.  In  the  course  of  this  struggle  a 
priest  proclaimed  himself  Pharaoh,  contrary  to  all  traditional 
usage.  A  new  partition  of  the  soil  was  undertaken ;  the  con- 
sequence, as  may  be  supposed,  was  universal  convulsion  and 
disorder.  It  is  not  possible  to  assign  exact  dates  to  the  sepa- 
rate catastrophes  which  ensued  ;  wo  only  know  that  for  a 
considerable  period  a  state  of  things  prevailed  in  which  Egypt 
was  not  in  a  position  to  assist  her  old  Syrian  allies.  The  king 
of  Gaza,  whom  Sargon  next  attacked,  brought  over  to  Lis  side 

reigned  from  727  to  723,  Sarkin  from  722  to  705. 


SARGON.  73 

one  of  the  masters  of  Egypt  for  the  time  being,  who  figures 
under  the  title  Siltan  (Sultan).  Sargon  narrates  that  the 
united  armies  of  Gaza  and  Egypt  came  against  him,  but  were 
driven  by  him  from  the  field  with  the  help  of  Assur,  his  lord  ; 
that  the  Siltan  escaped,  but  that  Hanno  of  Gaza  fell  into  his 
hands.  He  dealt  with  Gaza  as  he  had  dealt  with  Samaria 
and  Damascus.  The  cities  were  plundered  and  reduced  to 
ashes ;  many  of  the  inhabitants,  more  than  9000  in  number, 
were  led  away  to  Assyria.  It  was  of  less  importance  to  him 
to  annex  Egj^pt  than  to  occupy  Gaza,  in  order  to  consolidate 
his  conquests  in  Western  Asia.  Even  the  Philistines  were  no 
longer  able  to  oppose  him.  In  Ashdod,  one  of  the  chief  cit- 
ies of  their  Pentapolis,  there  lived  a  prince  who  had  striven 
to  rouse  all  his  neighbors  against  tlie  dominion  of  the  Assyr- 
ians, and  who  refused  to  pay  his  tribute.  Sargon  narrates 
that  he  made  the  subjects  of  this  prince  desert  him,  and  estab- 
lished another  in  his  place,  who,  however,  proved  unable  to 
hold  his  own ;  and  that  a  third  ruler  was  set  up  by  the  people, 
named  laman,  who  in  his  turn  refused  to  acknowledge  the  su- 
premacy of  Assyria.  In  the  wrath  of  his  heart  Sargon  turned 
with  his  war  chariots  and  the  horsemen  of  his  train  against 
Ashdod,  and  took  possession  of  it.  He  carried  the  gods  of 
the  Philistines  away  with  him,  amongst  them  doubtless  the 
fish -god,  in  whose  temple  had  been  deposited  the  severed 
head  of  King  Saul  in  days  gone  by.  He  tells  us  that  he 
established  a  deputy  in  Ashdod,  and  treated  the  inhabitants 
like  the  Assyrians  themselves,  so  that  they  obeyed  his  com- 
mands. 

A  Philistine  chieftain  had  taken  refuge  in  Egypt,  but  so 
great  was  the  terror  spread  by  the  Assyrian  arms  that  he  was 
delivered  up  by  the  Egyptian  rulers.  Sargon's  authority  ex- 
tended even  to  Arabia ;  the  inscriptions  mention  a  king  of 
Saba  from  whom  Sargon  exacted  tribute.  The  inscriptions 
are  the  vain-glorious  bulletins  of  a  conqueror,  but  the  informa- 
tion which  they  contain  is  beyond  all  price.  We  learn  from 
them  that  the  successes  in  Western  Asia  were  accompanied 
by  incessant  struggles  in  the  east  and  north  of  the  kingdom. 
Three  times  the  Urarti  (Armenians)  and  their  neighbors  near 
Ararat  rise  in  revolt.     They  are  conquered;  and  horrible,  al- 


74  TYRE  AND  ASSUa 

most  unheard-of  even  amongst  barbarians,  is  the  chastisement 
witli  Avhicli  they  are  visited.  They  are  flayed  alive.  Proba- 
bly through  dread  of  the  same  doom,  Ursa,  the  leader  of  this 
insurrection,  dies  by  his  own  hand.  An  incessant  opposition 
is  maintained  by  the  Modes,  among  whose  princes  we  And  the 
name  Dayakku,  presumedly  the  person  well  known  to  the 
Greeks  as  Deiokes.  Sargon  transforms  four  Median  towns 
into  Assyrian  fortresses.  In  one  inscription  he  mentions 
twenty-eight,  in  another  of  later  date  forty-five.  Median  princes 
from  whom  he  has  received  tribute.  But  his  hardest  struggle 
would  seem  to  have  been  with  Babylon,  once  a  close  ally,  then 
often  subjugated,  and  now  again  hostile. 

A  king  established  there  by  Salmanassar  was  overthrown 
by  a  native  chieftain  and  potentate,  Merodach-Baladan  (Mar- 
duk-bal-iddin).  Sargon  -was  at  first  obliged  to  allow  him  to 
remain  ruler  of  South  and  North  Chaldaea.  Soon  afterwards 
the  struggle  was  renewed.  Merodach-Baladan  invoked  the 
assistance  of  nomad  tribes  of  Arabs,  whilst  at  the  same  time 
he  formed  a  league  wutli  the  king  of  Elam,  and  took  up  a 
strong  position  in  the  rear  of  a  canal  which  branched  from 
the  Euphrates.*  Sargon,  however,  vanquished  him  and  com- 
pelled him  to  take  to  flight.  The  golden  insignia  of  royalty, 
crown,  sceptre,  and  throne,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  conqueror. 
Then  he  appears  as  a  great  monarch  in  Babel ;  he  receives 
tribute  from  an  island  called  Dilmun,  in  the  Persian  Gulf. 
In  the  ruins  of  Kitium,  in  Cyprus,  was  found  some  yeare  ago 
a  granite  column  of  victory,  with  a  cuneiform  inscription, 
which  had  been  erected  as  a  memorial  of  Sargon.  He  is 
everywhere  victorious,  more,  however,  in  subduing  insurrec- 
tions by  the  most  violent  methods,  than  by  making  new  con- 
quests. It  is  clear  that  Sargon  occupied  a  very  important 
position  in  the  world  of  his  day,  in  spite  of  his  illegitimate 

*  Inscription  in  Lcnormant,"  Histoire  anciennc  de  rOrient,"  i.  460,whoso 
excerpts  give  much  new  and  important  matter.  Tlic  quotations  from 
the  Tyrian  annals  appended  by  Lenormant  are  better  referred  to  Sal- 
manassar than  to  Sargon.  Maspcro,  "  History  of  the  Eastern  Nations  in 
Ancient  Times"  (p.  890  sq.  of  the  German  translation  by  Pietschmann), 
lays  stress  on  the  evidences  of  concert  in  the  opposition  made  by  Egypt, 
Elam,  and  Urarti  to  Sargon. 


SENNACHERIB.  75 

birth.  A  successful  but  merciless  warrior,  he  died  in  the 
year  705. 

The  subjugation  of  Israel,  Philistia,  Gaza,  and  a  part  of 
Arabia  by  the  Assyrians  must  be  regarded  as  the  main  event 
of  the  eighth  century.  We  cannot  assume  that  it  was  com- 
plete, for  the  counteracting  influence  of  Egypt  rendered  this 
impossible.  The  war  against  Egypt  was  carried  on  by  the 
dynasty  of  Sargon  during  the  seventh  century.  The  son  of 
Sargon,  Sennacherib,*  made  it  his  first  concern  to  measure  his 
strength  witli  the  Egyptians.  Egypt  no  doubt  found  it  irk- 
some to  send  tribute  to  Assyria,  and  she  had  on  this  occasion 
the  support  of  Etliiopia. 

In  an  inscription  of  Sennacherib  it  is  related  how  countless 
troops,  with  war  chariots,  horsemen,  and  archers,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  Egyptians,  pushed  forward  to  attack  the  As- 
syrians. At  Altaku  t  a  great  review  was  held.  "  In  the  ser- 
vice of  the  god  Assur,  my  lord,"  says  Sennacherib,  "  I  fought 
with  them  and  put  them  to  flight."  The  sons  of  the  king  of 
Egypt  and  the  generals  of  the  king  of  Egypt  and  of  Meroe 
were  taken  prisoners  in  the  melee.  We  may  regard  this  as 
the  battle  which  established  the  ascendency  of  the  Assyrians 
in  Western  Asia.  All  the  independent  powers  which  occupy 
the  foreground  of  history  were  now  subdued. 

Assur  had  no  broad  foundation  for  its  national  life.  Its 
religion  was  not  rooted  in  the  soil,  like  that  of  Egypt,  nor 
based  on  the  observation  of  the  sky  and  stars,  like  that  of 
Babylon.  It  was  a  warlike  confederacy  of  Semitic  origin, 
strengthened  by  constant  struggle  with  the  native  inhabitants, 
and  gradually  subduing  every  region  accessible  to  its  arms. 
Its  gods  were  gods  of  war,  manifesting  themselves  in  the 
prowess  of  the  ruling  princes.  Other  tribes  and  towns  had 
to  pay  it  tribute,  on  pain  of  being  delivered  over  to  a  horri- 
ble chastisement. 

Amidst  the  universal  ruin  Jerusalem  alone  stood  erect.  Here 
Ilezekiah  had  renounced  all  the  religious  infidelities  of  his 

*  Sennacherib,  or  Sanherib  (Sin-achi-irib),  reigned  from  705  to  C81. 
tEltheke,  a  town  of  the  Lcvites  in  the  province  of  tlie  tribe  of  Dan  (cf. 
Schrader,  "  Keilinschriftcn  und  Gescliiclitsforschung,"  p.  120  sq.). 


76  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

predecessors,  put  an  end  to  the  idolatrous  rites,  and  restored 
the  service  of  Jehovah  in  its  purity.  It  is  necessary  to  realize 
vividly  the  whole  situation  at  this  time  in  order  to  compre- 
liend  and  to  do  justice  to  such  a  presence  as  that  of  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  the  most  gifted  of  all  the  prophets  in  intellectual  and 
spiritual  power.  He  united  together  the  king  and  the  people, 
so  that  Jerusalem  was  regarded  as  a  bulwark  against  the  As- 
syrians, and  the  neighboring  peoples  who  sought  to  save  them- 
selves from  them  took  refuge  thither.  Every  one  has  read  in 
the  Book  of  Kings  the  story  of  the  siege  which  Sennacherib 
laid  to  Jerusalem,*  and  how  vainly  he  exerted  himself  to 
draw  the  people  from  their  allegiance  to  their  king.  One  of 
the  principal  arguments  by  which  the  Assyrians  recommend 
a  surrender  is  that  all  other  countries  and  cities,  together  with 
their  gods,  have  bowled  to  the  arms  of  Assur.  Wliere,  they 
ask,  is  there  a  god  who  has  been  able  to  protect  his  people 
against  them?  The  Israelites  and  their  prophet  aver  that 
Jehovah  is  the  God  who  will  bring  this  to  pass ;  He  has,  they 
say,  created  heaven  and  earth,  and  is  the  only  true  God.  Thus 
even  Jehovah  came  to  be  regarded  and  worshipped  as  a  na- 
tional God.  In  the  struggle  in  which  each  region  was  identi- 
fied with  its  representative  god,  lie  was  thought  to  take  part 
as  one  among  many.  Yet  with  all  this  Israel  had  never  lost 
sight  of  those  qualities  which  Moses  had  attributed  to  Jehovah, 
and  whilst  the  nation  was  regarded  as  His  especial  property, 
He  revealed  himself  at  the  same  time  in  His  essential  charac- 
ter as  Lord  over  all  creatures  upon  earth  and  as  the  Universal 
God.  This  conception  was  realized  with  the  greatest  force 
and  clearness  at  a  time  when  dangers  were  most  pressing.  It 
was  then  that  Isaiah  wrote  the  emphatically  prophetic  words 
in  which  he  proclaims  that  the  time  should  come  when  all 
the  world  should  seek  salvation  at  the  holy  places  of  Jerusa- 
lem. The  Jews  still  trusted  in  the  national  God ;  but,  at  the 
moment  when  they  were  threatened  with  destruction,  there 


♦  In  the  account  Herodotus  gives  of  the  defeat  of  Sennacherib,  the 
mouse,  tlie  symbol  of  annihilation,  is  introduced  and  worked  into  a  fanci- 
ful story.  In  the  Hebrew  tradition  the  retreat  is  considered  as  a  miracle 
wrought  by  God. 


ESARHADDON.  77 

emerged  in  dim  outline  a  profound  sense  that  the  conception 
on  which  the  religion  of  monotheism  rests  exists  for  all  time, 
and  belongs  to  all  the  world. 

Jerusalem  once  more  maintained  her  independence.  Sen- 
nacherib was  compelled  to  abandon  the  siege,  principally,  it 
appears,  on  account  of  commotions  which  had  broken  out 
in  Babylon.  Esarhaddon,  his  successor,  followed  in  his  foot- 
steps.* In  the  inscriptions  which  bear  his  name  it  is  re- 
corded that  he  made  Babylon  subject  to  his  laws,  and  trans- 
planted Median  tribes  to  Assyria.  It  was,  however,  towards 
Western  Asia  that  his  attention  was  chiefly  directed.  He 
relates  that  he  has  expelled  the  king  of  Sidon,  slain  its  nobles, 
destroyed  its  houses,  and  cast  its  walls  into  the  sea.  He  men- 
tions twelve  kings  on  the  sea  -  coast,  and  the  kings  of  the 
island  of  Cj'prus,  as  having  been  made  subject  to  him.  Even 
the  king  of  Judah  is  at  length  compelled  to  submit.  From 
the  remotest  regions,  probably  even  from  Arabia,  the  whole 
of  which  he  subjugates,  and  in  which  he  even  establishes  a 
queen,  he  carries  away  a  portion  of  the  inhabitants  to  Assyria. 
The  caravans,  as  Isaiah  complains,  are  endangered  and  harassed 
by  his  sword. 

But  by  far  the  greatest  of  his  exploits  was  to  subdue  the 
power  which  had  hitherto  been  the  chief  opponent  of  Assyria. 
His  father's  victory  had  paved  the  way  to  his  success.  In  the 
general  confusion  which  ensued  Esarhaddon  successfully  in- 
vaded the  land  of  the  Xile.  The  inscriptions  assert  that  he 
traversed  the  wdiole  of  Egypt;  he  calls  himself  king  of  Musur, 
or  Egypt,  of  the  land  of  Miluhhi  (Meroe),  and  the  land  of 
Kush.  We  are  reminded  of  the  old  quarrel  between  Egypt 
and  Cheta,  which  the  Hamesidae  had  not  been  able  to  bring 
to  a  decisive  issue.  The  Assyrians  may  be  regarded  as  the 
second  founders,  after  a  long  interval,  of  that  kingdom,  the 
component  parts  of  which  were  already  subject  to  them. 
They  succeeded  in  reducing  Egypt  itself  to  subjection. 

The  work  which  Sennacherib  had  begun,  and  Esarhaddon 
had  in  a  great  measure  carried  out,  was  completed  by  Assur- 
banipal.     An  inscription  fortunately  preserved,  and  accessible 

*  Esarhacldon's  reign  extends  from  681  to  668. 


78  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

in  several  translations,  shows  us  with  -what  vicissitudes  of  for- 
tune and  of  policy  the  result  was  achieved.  AVe  learn  from 
it  that  Esarhaddon  had  intrusted  the  government  of  the 
country  to  a  number  of  tributary  kings.  But  Taraco,  king 
of  Kush,  who  had  been  driven  out  of  Egypt  by  Esarhaddon, 
was  still  alive.  On  the  death  of  his  conqueror  he  bestirred 
himself  afresh.  It  is  regarded  as  a  sin  on  his  part  that  he 
despised  the  war-gods  of  the  Assyrians  and  trusted  to  his  own 
strength.  The  potentates  appointed  by  Esarhaddon  gave 
way  before  Taraco  and  fled  to  the  wilderness.  He  once  more 
occupied  Memphis,  which  Esarhaddon  had  expressly  annexed 
to  the  Assyrian  empire.  Assurbanipal,  at  the  command  of 
the  gods  whom  Taraco  has  slighted,  moves  with  all  the  force 
they  have  placed  at  his  disposal  to  encounter  him.  On  his 
way  two-and-twenty  kings  of  the  subjugated  districts  of  West- 
ern Asia,  and  of  the  islands  of  the  Mediterranean,  pay  him 
homage.  Thus  he  reaches  Egypt  without  difficulty.  Taraco 
sends  a  considerable  force  against  him,  but  with  the  help  of 
the  gods  his  lords  Assurbanipal  puts  it  to  the  rout.  Taraco 
himself  is  now  seized  with  fear  of  these  gods,  and  resolves  to 
retreat.  The  images  of  his  gods  are  then  brought  into  the 
camp  of  Assurbanipal.  One  aspect  of  the  struggle  is  brought 
out  in  strong  relief  in  the  inscriptions ;  the  contest  between 
the  princes  is  at  the  same  time  a  contest  between  their  re- 
spective gods. 

Assurbanipal  pui-sues  the  defeated  enemy  as  far  as  Thebes. 
He  lays  stress  upon  the  fact  that  his  people  have  made  their 
habitation  in  that  city.  It  was,  as  wo  know,  the  principal  seat 
of  the  glory  of  the  Ramesidse  and  of  the  Egyptian  religion. 
The  occupation  was,  ho vvever,  connected  with  another  motive. 
The  subject  kings  had  returned,  and  were  again  established  in 
tlieir  old  districts ;  but  Assurbanipal  had  increased  the  burdens 
of  the  country,  for  tlio  exaction  and  discharge  of  which  these 
high  commissioners  were  responsible.  This  led  to  unwelcome 
consequences.  The  subject  kings  forgot  their  obligations,  al- 
though, as  it  is  expressly  stated,  they  had  undertaken  them 
towards  the  gods  as  well  as  the  sovereign  of  Assur.  They 
turned  to  Taraco,  the  king  of  the  Ethiopians,  and  begged  his 
support  against  the  Assyrians.   In  the  inscription  it  is  related 


ASSURBANIPAL.  79 

that  the  commanders  of  the  Assyrian  troops  have  come  upon 
the  traces  of  this  design ;  they  get  into  their  hands  the  chief 
of  the  subject  kings,  whose  souls  are  oppressed  by  the  bur- 
den of  their  broken  oath,  and  lay  waste  their  towns,  now  con- 
quered for  the  first  time.  They  show  no  mercy,  and  the 
country  is  covered  with  the  corpses  of  the  slain.  Some  of 
the  subject  kings  are  brought  to  Nineveh ;  but  Assurbanipal 
does  not  consider  it  advisable  to  punish  them  after  the  man- 
ner of  his  predecessors.  It  would  manifestly  have  been  im- 
possible to  govern  Egypt  immediately  through  Assyrian 
officials.  The  king,  therefore,  makes  an  arrangement  with 
Necho,  the  most  influential  of  the  subject  princes.  He  pre- 
sents him  with  a  sword  of  steel  in  a  golden  scabbard,  and  pays 
him  almost  royal  honors;  at  the  same  time,  however,  he  im- 
poses upon  him  even  harder  conditions  than  those  exacted 
hitherto.  This  done,  he  sends  him  back  to  his  district,  Mem- 
phis and  Sais.  In  order  completely  to  re-establish  the  sub- 
jection of  Egypt  the  king  himself  visits  the  country.  Taraco 
has  died  meanwhile;  "his  soul,"  says  the  inscription,  "fled 
into  the  darkness."  His  successor  has  succeeded  in  taking 
possession  of  Thebes  once  more,  but  is  unable  to  make  any 
opposition  to  King  Assurbanipal.  The  latter  boasts  that  he 
has  not  only  carried  off  priceless  treasures  from  Thebes,  but 
has  also  compelled  the  city  to  acknowledge  the  worship  of 
the  Assyrian  divinities,  Assur  and  Istar.  The  inscription 
commemorates  a  victory  at  once  of  the  Assyrian  religion  and 
of  the  Assyrian  empire  over  the  land  of  Egypt  and  its  gods. 
The  king  goes  on  to  relate  that  he  has  advanced  also  against 
Kush,  and  won  great  glory  there ;  but,  without  casting  doubt 
upon  his  statement,  we  are  not  justified  in  assuming  that  he 
subdued  this  countr}^,  since  he  does  not  expressly  say  so. 
The  conclusion  to  be  drawn  from  his  inscription — and  it  is 
an  important  one — is  that  Egypt,  after  being  repeatedly  over- 
run and  at  last  completely  subdued,  acknowledged  the  sover- 
eignty of  the  Assyrian  arms  and  the  Assyrian  gods  of  war. 

The  power  of  Assurbanipal  was  equal  to  the  task  of  hold- 
ing under  control  the  subjects  of  Assyria  at  all  points.  He 
boasts  of  having  compelled  the  king  of  Tyre  to  drink  sea- 
water  to  quench  his  thirst.     The  greatest  opposition  he  met 


80  TYRE   AND  ASSUR. 

with  was  in  Elam,  but  this  too  he  was  able  to  suppress.  The 
goddess  appears  to  him  in  a  dream,  encompassed  with  rays  of 
light,  and  promises  him  the  victory  which  he  obtains.  The 
hostile  king  is  slain,  the  people  reduced  to  submission.  Here, 
however,  events  took  much  the  same  course  as  in  Egypt,  and 
from  the  same  cause.  Assurbanipal  says  that  he  increased  the 
tributes,  but  that  his  action  was  opposed  by  his  own  brother, 
whom  he  had  formerly  maintained  by  force  of  arms  in  Bab- 
ylon. This  brother  now  seduced  a  great  number  of  other 
nations  and  princes  from  their  allegiance.  The  Assyrian  su- 
premacy was  new  to  them,  and  was  daily  growing  more 
burdensome.  These  nationalities  had  been  brouglit  to  ac- 
knowledge Assur,  but  without  renouncing  their  own  rights. 
The  king  of  Babylon  placed  himself,  so  to  speak,  at  their  head, 
in  order  to  protect  them  against  his  brother.  The  former  is 
accused  of  an  offence  against  religion ;  he  is  said  to  have 
turned  aside  from  Bel,  the  chief  deity,  and  from  the  Assyrian 
war-gods — a  statement  which  may,  perhaps,  mean  that  he  ex- 
pended the  treasures  of  the  temple  of  Bel  in  the  execution 
of  his  design. 

The  danger  was  immensely  increased  when  the  king  set 
tip  by  Assurbanipal  in  Elam  joined  the  movement.  It  was 
necessary  to  put  an  end  to  this  revolt,  and  this  was  effected 
for  once  without  much  difficulty.  The  prince  of  Elam  was 
slain,  with  part  of  his  family,  by  a  rebel  named  Tammaritu. 
Assurbanipal,  invoking  his  gods,  advances  against  the  latter. 
At  this  juncture  the  rebel  is  himself  attacked  by  another  in- 
surrectionary movement,  and  suffers  a  complete  overthrow. 
Tammaritu,  his  head  covered  with  dust,  throws  himself  be- 
fore the  footstool  of  Assurbanipal,  to  the  glory  of  the  Assyrian 
gods.  lie  is  admitted  to  pardon  and  reinstated.  Thereupon 
the  rebellious  brother  in  Babylon  has  to  give  way.  The  gods 
who  go  before  Assurbanipal  have,  as  he  says,  thrust  the  king 
of  Babylon  into  a  consuming  fire  and  put  an  end  to  his  life. 
His  adherents,  who  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  victor,  are  hor- 
ribly punished.  The  institutions  against  which  they  have 
risen  arc  re-established  ;  the  provinces  which  joined  them  are 
subjected  to  the  laws  of  the  Assyrian  gods.  Even  the  Arabs, 
who  have  sided  with  the  rebels,  bow  before  the  king,  whilst 


THE  ASSYRIAN   EMPIRE.  XC^J  Tr^-) '^'V^^ 

of  Lis  power  in  Egypt  it  is  said  that  it  extended  U 
sources  of  the  Nile.  His  dominion  reached  even  to  Asia 
Minor.  He  mentions  Lydia  as  a  remote  country  on  the 
other  side  of  the  sea,  of  which  his  ancestors  had  never  even 
heard.  Gugu,  king  of  the  Luddi,  that  is,  Gyges  of  Lydia, 
sends  ambassadors  and  entreats  protection  from  Assyria. 

The  enormous  extent  of  this  power  is  next  revealed  in  the 
statement  that  a  king  of  Ararat  has  sent  presents  to  Nineveh, 
which  were  regarded  as  tokens  of  homage,  that  insurrection- 
ary chieftains  in  Media  and  the  land  of  the  Sacge  have  been 
suppressed,  and  that  seventy-five  cities  have  been  occupied  in 
these  regions.  The  Assyrian  Empire  united  the  Semitic  races 
for  the  first  and  perhaps  the  last  time  in  a  dominion  which 
extended  far  beyond  their  own  frontiers,  and  gave  them  in- 
disputably the  first  rank  among  the  powers  of  the  world.  Nor 
must  it  be  forgotten  that  the  Phoenician  colonies,  Carthage  and 
the  distant  Tartessus,  although  they  maintained  their  indepen- 
dence, carried  into  the  west  of  Europe  the  community  of  inter- 
est which  belongs  to  a  common  origin,  whilst  access  to  the  east 
of  Asia  was  opened  by  way  of  Media.  Arabia  also,  without 
entirely  succumbing  to  Assyria,  was  affected  by  her  influence. 

Assyria  is  the  first  conquering  power  which  we  encounter 
in  the  history  of  the  world.  The  most  effective  means  which 
she  brought  to  bear  in  consolidating  her  conquests  consisted 
in  the  transportation  of  the  principal  inhabitants  from  the 
subjugated  districts  to  Assyria,  and  the  settlement  of  Assyr- 
ians in  tlie  newly  acquired  provinces.  We  might  have  ex- 
pected tliat  a  method  so  thorough  would  have  been  attended 
by  corresponding  success.  In  Nineveh  the  Assyrian  empire 
possessed  a  capital  in  which  all  tlie  various  elements  of  na- 
tional life  then  existent  encountered,  and  must  necessarily 
have  modified,  each  other.  The  most  important  result  of  the 
action  of  Assyria  upon  the  world  was  perhaps  that  she  limited 
or  broke  up  the  petty  sovereignties  and  the  local  religions  of 
Western  Asia.  There  was  some  policy  in  transplanting  the 
nations.  In  their  own  home  they  were  always  exposed  to  the 
temptation  of  falling  once  more  under  the  influence  of  the 
local  religion  ;  with  the  change  of  soil  they  might  be  expect- 
ed to  change  their  gods. 

6 


82  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

It  was,  tlien,  an  event  which  convulsed  the  world  when 
this  power,  in  the  full  current  of  its  life  and  progress,  sudden- 
ly ceased  to  exist.  Since  the  tenth  century  every  event  of 
importance  had  originated  in  Assyria ;  in  the  middle  of  the 
seventh  she  suddenly  collapsed.*  Yet  the  effects  of  her 
power  could  not  by  any  means  be  effaced ;  on  the  contrary, 
all  subsequent  history  has  been  affected  by  it.  Western  Asia 
has  always  been  one  of  the  most  important  theatres  in  which 
the  drama  of  the  world's  history  has  unfolded  itself.  On 
that  stage  Persians,  Greeks,  Romans,  Arabs,  Mongols,  Turks, 
have  played  their  parts,  and  have  furthered  or  retarded  civil- 
ization ;  but  each  successive  act  has  felt  the  influence  of  As- 
syria. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  the  ruin  of  Nineveh  was  brought 
about  we  have  nowhere  any  authentic  record.f    At  a  later 


*  Assurbanipal  reigned  until  the  year  636 ;  he  was  succeeded  by  Assur- 
idil-ili. 

tThe  account  given  by  Ctesias  of  tlie  fall  of  Nineveh  cannot,  according 
to  all  appearance,  be  even  derived  from  an  old  poem  ;  it  is  rather  to  be 
called  a  fairy  tale  than  a  legend.  The  passage  from  Alexander  Polyhis- 
tor,  quoted  by  Eusebius,  is  very  obscure,  since  in  it  Sardanapalus  (probably 
Assurbanipal,  and  in  any  case  an  Assyrian  prince)  appears  as  the  father 
of  Nebuchadnezzar  himself.  It  is  he  who  is  said  to  have  brought  about 
and,  so  to  speak,  compelled  the  marriage  of  the  latter  with  the  daughter 
of  a  Median  king  (the  word  "  exercitum,"  however,  is  only  found  in  the 
Latin  text,  Euseb.  "Chronic,"  ed.  8chone,i  29;  the  Greek  text  is  extant 
in  Syncellus,  i.  p.  396,  ed.  Bonn).  The  account,  as  it  is  ordinarily  given, 
rests  solely  on  the  testimony  of  Abydenus,  an  author  of  the  second  cent- 
ury after  Christ.  To  him  is  to  be  traced  the  statement  that  the  last  As- 
syrian king  sent  out  his  generals  to  meet  an  advancing  enemy,  and  that 
one  of  these  generals,  said  to  have  been  Nabopolassur,  the  father  of  Ne- 
buchadnezzar, rose  against  him.  I  cannot  accept  this  story  as  counter- 
balancing the  evidence  of  Herodotus,  for,  although  he  does  not  show 
himself  competently  informed  about  the  course  of  Assyrian  history,  it  is 
clear  from  his  intention  of  writing  on  the  subject  that  he  had  not  quite 
lost  sight  of  it.  And  he  undoubtedly  gives  us  the  best  information  about 
Median  history.  Now  of  this  information  the  account  he  gives  of  the 
end  of  the  Assyrian  monarchy  is  an  integral  part.  In  my  judgment  it  is 
by  far  the  most  tnistworthy.  lie  affinns  with  the  utmost  distinctness 
that  the  Median  king  Kyaxares,  to  avenge  his  father,  Phraortcs,  who  had 
fallen  in  the  struggle  with  Assyria,  attacked  Nineveh,  and  was  impeded 


FALL   OF  NINEVEH.  83 

time  Xenopbon  was  told  by  tbe  natives  of  tbe  country  tbat 
tbe  city  would  have  been  able  to  defend  itself,  but  was  de- 
terred from  doing  so  by  signs  from  heaven,  the  lightnings  of 
the  Most  High  God.  A  still  later  account  is  that,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  advantages  won  by  the  hostile  forces  of  Baby- 
lonians and  Modes  in  their  advance  against  Nineveh,  the  king 
of  the  latter,  Sarakos,  burned  himself  in  his  citadel.  This  ver- 
sion afterwards  led  to  a  repetition,  with  embellishments,  of 
the  old  legend  of  Sardanapalus.  Apart  from  their  miraculous 
accessories,  the  one  circumstance  in  which  all  these  accounts 
agree  is  that  Assyria  was  overthrown  by  the  combination  of 
the  Medes  and  Babylonians.  Everything  else  that  is  said  on 
the  subject  verges  on  the  fabulous ;  and  even  the  fact  of  the 
alliance  is  doubtful,  since  Herodotus,  who  lived  nearest  to  the 
period  we  are  treating  of,  knows  nothing  of  it,  and  ascribes 
the  conquest  simply  to  the  Medes.  "We  shall  return  shortly 
to  the  combination  of  circumstances  which  brought  about  the 
fall  of  the  Assyrian  empire  and  the  rise  of  that  of  the  Medes, 
events  on  which  the  progress  of  universal  history  depends. 

At  present  wo  must  confine  ourselves  to  the  Babylonians, 
who,  being  delivered  by  the  fall  of  Nineveh  from  the  tyr- 
anny of  the  Assyrians,  continued  on  their  own  account  the 
part  played  by  Assur  in  Western  Asia.  Here  they  were  su- 
preme. Nebuchadnezzar,  relying  upon  his  hereditary  title 
and  the  support  of  the  priestly  caste,  may  be  regarded  as  the 
principal  founder  of  the  Chaldoeo-Babylonian  empire.  But 
he  experienced  opposition  on  the  side  of  Egypt.  Among 
those  subject  kings  whom  the  Assyrians  had  established  in 
Egypt  the  descendants  of  the  first  Necho  assumed,  after  the 
fall  of  Nineveh,  the  position  of  independent  sovereigns. 
Even  in  the  lifetime  of  Assurbanipal,  Psammetichus,  the  son 
of  Necho,  had  taken  steps  in  this  direction,  especially  through 
his  alliance  with  Lydia.     The  intention  was,  however,  most 

in  the  siege  by  the  inroad  of  tlie  Scythians  (i.  103) ;  but  tliat,  as  soon  as 
he  had  disencumbered  himself,  in  a  very  horrible  manner,  of  the  chief 
leaders  of  the  Scythians,  he  directed  his  arms  against  Nineveh  and  con- 
quered it,  and  reduced  the  whole  of  Assyria  with  the  exception  of  Baby- 
lonia. Of  any  share  taken  by  the  Babylonians  in  the  conquest  of  Nineveh 
Herodotus  knows  nothing. 


84r  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

unmistakably  manifested  in  the  son  of  Psammetichus,  the 
second  Necho,  a  prince  whose  general  policy  opened  up 
a  new  path  for  the  later  history  of  Egypt.  His  efforts,  by 
bringing  him  into  alliance  with  Phoenicians  and  with  Greeks, 
brought  about  a  universal  tendency  in  the  direction  of  com- 
merce and  culture.  The  viceregal  authority  over  Pliilistia 
being  at  the  same  time  intrusted  to  him,  he  turned  his 
whole  power  against  Syria.  It  was  here  that  Babylon  and 
Egypt,  each  making  strenuous  advances  in  power,  came  into 
collision. 

The  smaller  kingdoms,  which  were  just  raising  their  heads 
again,  were  under  the  unhappy  necessity  of  making  their 
choice  between  joining  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  powers. 
The  situation  was  a  momentous  one  for  the  kingdom  of  Ju- 
dah.  We  can  undei^stand  how  it  is  that  an  occurrence  with 
which  only  painful  memories  were  connected  is  not  found 
treated  in  the  Book  of  Kings  with  that  detail  from  which  we 
might  have  gained  an  insight  into  the  motives  and  the  vicis- 
situdes by  which  the  course  of  events  was  determined.  We 
can  discover  no  more  than  that  Judah  under  King  Josiah  had 
opposed  the  progress  of  the  Egyptian  Pharaoh,  who  desired 
free  passage  through  tlie  province  of  Judaea,  but  that  at  the 
first  encounter  near  Megiddo,  Josiah  was  defeated  and  lost 
liis  life.  Hereupon  Necho  became  master  of  Jerusalem.  He 
established  a  king  who  was  compelled  to  serve  the  Egyptians, 
as  formerly  the  Samaritan  king,  Menahem,  had  served  the 
Assyrians,  by  exacting  money  from  his  subjects  to  support 
the  conquerors  in  their  enterprises.  In  these,  however,  the 
Egyptians  failed. 

Near  Carchemish,  Necho  was  conquered  by  young  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, 80  that  the  preponderance  of  power  was  trans- 
ferred from  the  Egyptians  to  the  Babylonians,  and  Nebuchad- 
nezzar became  tho  most  powerful  prince  in  Western  Asia.* 

•  From  a  record  derived  from  Babylon  itself  we  learn  that  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, whose  father  had  died  meanwhile,  received  the  kingdom  from  the 
hand  of  the  Chaldicans,  who  had  reserved  it  for  him  (Berosus  ap.  Joseph., 
"Antiq."  x.  11, 1;  C.  MUUer,  "Fragmenta  Hist.  Gncc."  ii.  p.  500,  n.  14). 
The  monarchy  was,  according  to  this,  a  kind  of  property  of  the  priest- 
hood, and  tho  principal  person  amongst  tho  Chaldceans  resigned  it,  so  to 


NEBUCHADNEZZAR.  85 

He  is  compared  by  the  prophet  to  a  lion  breaking  forth  from 
his  thicket  and  turning  the  land  into  a  wilderness,  or,  again, 
to  an  eagle  spreading  out  his  wings  over  Moab,  irresistible, 
that  is,  whether  in  defence  or  offence.  Once  more  the  princes 
of  Tyre  and  Sidon  combine  with  each  other  and  with  the 
king  of  Judah  to  resist  the  Babylonians.  Nebuchadnezzar  in- 
quires of  his  gods  whither  he  shall  next  direct  his  arras,  and 
at  their  direction  besieges  Jerusalem.  Josephus*  relates  that 
Necho  made  an  attempt  to  relieve  Jerusalem,  and  it  is  indis- 
putable that  the  magnates  and  the  people,  as  well  as  the  king 
himself,  were  inclined  towards  Egypt,  whilst  the  prophet  Jere- 
miah saw  in  the  ascendency  of  Babylon  the  will  of  God. 
Jerusalem  was  taken,  the  king  made  captive  and  carried 
away,  and  with  him  a  great  number  of  the  ])rincipal  Jews,  es- 
pecially of  the  men-at-arms,  together  with  such  artisans  as 
were  most  useful  in  war,  to  the  number  of  several  thousand.f 
It  was  Nebuchadnezzar's  chief  concern  to  disarm  Judah, 
which  had  shown  itself  so  hostile  to  him,  together  with  its 
capital.  He  established  anew  king,  Zedekiah,  but  bound  him 
to  maintain  the  whole  province  for  him,  the  king  of  Babel, 
and  to  allow  no  Egyptian  tendencies  to  find  expression.  But 
Zedekiah  falls  under  the  influence  of  the  multitude,  and  is 
warned  by  the  prophets  Ezekiel  and  Jeremiah.  As,  however, 
their  prophecies  do  not  exactly  agree,  he  rejects  them  both, 
and  forms  an  alliance  with  the  Egyptians,  in  the  hope  of 
overthrowing  Babylon  with  their  aid.  Hereupon  Nebuchad- 
nezzar invades  Judaea,  conquers  the  fortresses,  and  besieges 
Jerusalem.  The  king  of  Egypt  advances  to  its  relief;  the 
Babylonian  king  attacks  and  defeats  him.  The  withdrawal 
of  the  Babylonian  king  with  his  army  gives  encouragement 
to  the  opinion  that  he  will  undertake  nothing  further  against 

speak,  to  Nebuchadnezzar.  As  far  as  the  essential  fact  is  concerned, 
it  makes  no  difference  that  the  chronology  cannot  be  exactly  harmo- 
nized. 

*  Joseph.,  "  Antiq."  x.  7,  2.  I  follow  by  preference  the  account  in  Jo- 
sephus, who,  if  appearances  arc  not  altogether  deceptive,  had  access  here 
to  special  sources  of  information. 

t  Jeremiah  (Hi.  28)  reckons  only  3033;  in  2  Kings  xxiv.  14  the  number 
is  given  as  10,000. 


86  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

Jerusalem,  but  will  even  restore  the  precious  furniture  whicli 
he  has  taken  from  the  Temple.  Jeremiah  protests  against 
these  idle  dreams,  and  with  justice,  for  in  a  short  time  Nebu- 
chadnezzar returns  to  the  siege  of  Jerusalem.  According  to 
the  method  introduced  by  the  Assyrians,  he  encloses  the  city 
with  a  mound,  and  at  last  makes  a  breach  in  the  walls.  The 
city  is  visited  by  hunger  and  pestilence  at  the  same  time. 
Under  these  circumstances  the  king  takes  to  flight.  Near 
Jericho,  however,  he  is  overtaken  ;  he  is  brought  to  a  formal 
trial,  and  in  accordance  with  the  sentence  his  children  are 
slaughtered  before  his  eyes.  This  is  the  last  sight  he  is  al- 
lowed to  behold ;  he  is  then  blinded  and  led  in  chains  to  Bab- 
ylon. A  month  afterwards  the  Temple  and  the  royal  palace 
are  burned  by  the  Chaldseans.  What  David  and  Solomon  had 
created  seemed  to  be  annihilated  forever.  Upon  this  followed 
more  compulsory  emigrations.  Whether,  however,  a  depor- 
tation of  the  whole  people  really  took  place  is  not  so  certain 
as  is  commonly  supposed.  We  only  learn  that  no  one  was 
left  behind  except  such  as  were  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
cultivation  of  the  land  or  of  the  vineyards. 

The  causes  which  led  to  this  catastrophe  were  not,  properly 
speaking,  of  a  religious  nature.  The  conflicting  influences  of 
the  two  neighboring  powers  were  so  strong  that  they  led  to 
a  division  in  Jerusalem  itself.  The  kings  were  always  re- 
newing their  alliance  with  Egypt ;  the  prophets  were  in  favor 
of  Babylon.  In  the  midst  of  this  dissension,  itself  the  effect 
of  the  general  situation,  the  kingdom  of  Judah  was  destroyed. 
It  was,  however,  in  the  end,  the  opposition  between  Baal  and 
Jehovali  which  decided  the  collapse  of  the  Jewish  monarchy. 
Baal  was  lord  of  Western  Asia,  and  his  present  champion, 
Nebuchadnezzar,  was  armed  at  all  points.  In  Jerusalem,  on 
the  otlier  hand,  there  was  nothing  but  discord.  Even  the 
prophets,  firmly  attached  as  they  were  to  Jehovah,  acknowl- 
edged to  themselves  without  illusion  the  superior  power  of 
Babylon,  and  recommended  a  peaceful  arrangement.  The 
observance  of  the  conditions  imposed  by  Nebuchadnezzar 
would  not  have  run  counter  to  their  feelings.  But  the  kings, 
and  with  them  the  greater  part  of  the  people,  leaned  towards 
Egypt,  which  nevertheless  was  too  weak  to  save  them. 


THE  BABYLONIAN  CAPTIVITY.  87 

If  all  appearances  are  not  fallacious,  it  was  only  the  upper 
classes  who  were  led  into  captivity  in  Babylon.  In  this  cir- 
cumstance, however,  we  recognize  the  foundation  for  a  reac- 
tion ;  for  it  was  in  these  classes  that  the  ideas  which  belonged 
to  the  early  days  of  Israel  had  struck  the  deepest  roots,  de- 
riving strength  and  consistency  in  the  last  epoch,  especially 
under  King  Josiah,  from  the  struggle  with  the  encroaching 
idolatries.  These  classes  would  not  improbably  maintain 
their  integrity,  even  when  removed  from  Jerusalem,  now 
despoiled  of  all  political  power,  and  transported  by  the  con- 
queror to  some  of  his  other  provinces.  It  was  in  misfortune 
that  the  indestructible  power  of  faith  asserted  itself  most  un- 
mistakably. The  captives  celebrated  the  great  days  of  disas- 
ter as  days  of  penitence.  They  went  back  in  memory  to 
Abraham,  who  alone,  among  all  their  leaders,  had  never  been 
untrue  to  his  God.  They  gathered  up  their  articles  of  faith, 
and  imparted  to  them  a  depth  and  purity  never  known  before, 
whilst  they  looked  forward  to  the  deliverance  whicli  they  soon 
obtained. 

After  the  taking*  of  Jerusalem,  Nebuchadnezzar  turned 
his  arms  against  PhoBnicia.  Only  Tyre  offered  any  opposi- 
tion, and  it  is  not  clear  whether  he  reduced  it  or  not.  We 
are  told  that,  the  siege  lasted  tliirteen  years.f    Nebuchadnezzar 

*  Tlie  destruction  of  tlie  Temple  is  placed  in  the  second  Book  of  Kings 
(xxv.  8),  and  also  by  the  prophet  Jeremiah  (Hi.  12),  in  the  nineteenth  year 
of  Nebuchadnezzar.  As  Nebuchadnezzar,  according  to  the  Ptolemaic 
canon,  ascended  the  throne  of  Babylon  in  the  year  604,  we  must  place 
the  destruction  in  the  year  586.  That  this  supposition  is  in  accordance 
•with  the  calculation  of  thirty-seven  years  for  the  imprisonment  of  Jehoi- 
achim  has  been  shown  by  Brandis,  "  Abhandlungen  zur  Gcschichte  des 
Orients  im  Alterthum,"  p.  80  sq.  The  passage  of  Clemens  Alexandrinus, 
quoted  also  by  Eusebius,  belongs  to  the  comparative  chronology  of  later 
times,  the  data  for  which  we  cannot  more  exactly  determine. 

t  Was  it,  however,  the  ancient  or  the  insular  Tyre  ?  There  are  no 
traces  of  maritime  undertakings,  such  as  would  have  been  necessary 
against  the  latter.  It  is  nowhere  recorded  that  Tyre  was  conquered.  It 
is  possible  that  Tyre  once  more  acknowledged  the  supremacy  of  Baby- 
lon; even  this,  however,  cannot  be  positively  affirmed.  The  maritime 
power  of  Tyre  was  at  this  time  most  flourishing  and  most  widely  extend- 
ed. If  an  event  like  this  had  succeeded  such  prosperity,  it  would  have 
been  recorded  with  greater  distinctness. 


88  TYRE  AND  ASSUR. 

next  attacked  and  subdued  Ammon  and  Moab.  According 
to  an  account  which  coraes  to  us  with  exceptional  distinct- 
ness,* he  himself  penetrated  even  into  Egypt,  and  carried 
as  captives  to  Babylon  the  Israelites  who  had  taken  refuge 
there.  All  these  actions,  however,  are  but  parts  of  a  single  de- 
sign— the  annihilation  of  Egyptian  influence  in  Western  Asia. 

The  cuneiform  inscriptions  of  this  period  are  not  of  histor- 
ical import,  like  the  Assyrian,  but  have  reference  only  to  the 
building  works  of  the  king.  "  The  Temple  of  the  Founda- 
tion of  tlie  Earth,"  says  the  king,  "  the  Tower  of  Babylon,  I 
erected  and  completed,  and  covered  it  with  a  pointed  roof  of 
tiles  and  copper."  He  feels  himself  urged  by  tlie  god  him- 
self to  restore  the  Temple  of  the  Seven  Lamps  of  tlie  Earth, 
which  had  fallen  into  ruins.  "  On  a  day  of  good  omen," 
says  he,  "  I  improved  the  bricks  of  its  building  and  the  tiles 
of  its  roof,  and  made  it  into  masonry  firmly  joined  together." 
Hitherto  the  temple  had  been  without  a  cupola;  this  was 
erected  by  Nebuchadnezzar. 

His  history  became  the  subject  of  legend.  The  Jewish  ac- 
count, in  Daniel,  says  he  was  expelled  from  human  society, 
and  ate  grass.  Quite  different  is  the  Greek  tradition,  which 
relates  that  he  became  greater  than  Hercules,  that  he  pushed 
as  far  as  Lib3^a,  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  and  Iberia,  and  that 
he  transplanted  the  Iberians  to  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea. 
Then  he  is  said  to  have  been  possessed  by  a  god,  and  on  one 
occasion  to  have  mounted  the  battlements  of  his  palace,  and 
thence  prophesied  to  the  Babylonians  their  destruction,  after 
which  he  disappeared. 

•  It  is  found  in  Joseph., "  Antiq."  x.  9,  nnd  has  hitherto  been  rejected. 
But  in  a  hieroglyphic  inscription  known  to  Athanasius  Kircher,  a  dep- 
uty in  Elephantine  of  the  time  of  the  Pharaoh  Ilophra  boasts  of  having 
defeated  an  array  of  "  the  Syrians,  the  Northmen,  the  Asiatics,"  which 
had  invaded  Egypt ;  and  this  can  be  no  other  than  the  army  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, who  is  assumed  to  have  i)ushed  as  far  as  Syene.  Cf.  Alfred 
Wiedemann,  *'  Qcschichte  Acgyptens  von  Psammetsch  bis  auf  Alexander 
den  Orossen,"  p.  108  sq.;  and  in  the  Zeittehrift  fur  dgyptiache  SpracJia 
und  AlUrthumshuTuUy  1878,  p.  4  sq.  and  p.  80.  According  to  a  Baby.» 
Ionian  inscription,  the  campaign  of  Nebuchadnezzar  against  Egypt  falls 
in  the  thirty-seventh  year  of  his  reign,  i.  e.  B.O.  068  (Schroder,  in  the 
ZeUtehrift,  1879,  p.  45  sq.). 


Chapter  IY. 
THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

I  NOW  return  to  the  overthrow  of  the  Assyrian  and  the 
foundation  of  the  Medo-Persian  kingdom,  events  so  closely 
connected  that  they  may  be  regarded  as  one.  They  are 
known  to  us  only  very  imperfectly,  but  are  perhaps  capable 
of  being  made  clearer  by  a  general  survey. 

It  might  seem  to  be  a  misuse  of  terms  to  regard  a  king- 
dom like  the  Assyrian,  which  owed  its  growth  to  acts  of  vio- 
lence of  all  kinds,  as  forming  a  real  epoch  in  the  culture  of 
the  human  race.  Yet  such  is  the  case.  Through  the  events 
and  complications  that  preceded  its  rise  a  certain  degree  of 
civilization  had  already  been  attained.  There  existed  station- 
ary peoples,  with  definite  frontiers,  maintaining  themselves 
in  spite  of  constant  conflicts  with  each  other;  institutions 
under  the  sanction  of  law,  the  necessary  condition  of  social 
life;  religious  systems,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  idea  of 
monotheism  was  firmly  maintained,  still  under  local  forms, 
indeed,  but  all-embracing  in  its  ultimate  scope ;  a  literature 
by  which  the  primary  elements  of  all  tradition  have  been  col- 
lected in  one  incomparable  work,  and  at  the  same  time  con- 
temporary occurrences,  although  recorded  only  from  a  single 
point  of  view,  have  been  preserved  to  posterity ;  and  an  ar- 
tistic development  which,  devoted  to  the  service  of  religion, 
created  monuments  of  such  magnitude  and  intrinsic  impor- 
tance that  they  have  always  been  the  admiration  of  posterity, 
and  have  roused  them  to  emulation.  This  world,  containing, 
as  it  did,  the  groundwork  of  all  human  civilization,  fell  under 
the  Assyrian  monarchy  in  the  natural  course  of  events,  As- 
syria herself  sharing  in  the  general  development.  In  the 
ruins  of  Nineveh  works  have  been  found  exhibiting  a  high 
degree  of  technical  perfection,  whilst  the  religion  of  ^N'ineveh 


90  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

was  only  one  particular  and  corrupt  form  of  the  Baal-wor- 
ship, the  metropolis  of  which  the  Assyrian  kings  were  espe- 
cially proud  of  possessing  and  governing  as  a  separate  king- 
dom attached  to  their  own.  "Whilst  they  drew  power  to  them- 
selves from  every  quarter,  they  protected  the  civilized  world 
from  the  encroachment  of  alien  elements.  If  we  seek  a  general 
explanation  of  the  collapse  of  Assyria  in  the  actual  circum- 
stances of  her  histor}^,  we  shall  iind  it  in  the  fact  that  she  at 
last  ceased  to  discharge  this  function.  The  independent  ten- 
dencies of  the  separate  nations  and  races  were  controlled,  but 
not  suppressed ;  at  every  change  of  dynasty  they  reappeared. 
It  is  quite  inconceivable  that  a  power  which  owed  its  ascen- 
dency simply  to  its  superiority^  in  the  arts  of  war  could  give 
contentment  to  the  nations  which  it  ruled.  Still  less  could  it 
be  expected  that  the  capital  which  was  the  chief  seat  of  the 
religion  of  Egypt  would  seriously  submit  to  the  worship  of  As- 
sur.  Princes,  again,  such  as  Gyges,  accustomed  to  be  obeyed 
by  the  Greeks  of  Asia  Minor,  were  little  likely  entirely  to 
resign  their  own  independence,  least  of  all  when  the  Assyrian 
monarchy  was  no  longer  able  to  protect  them  against  other 
barbarians. 

At  this  epoch  Cimmerian  and  Scythian  tribes  were  advanc- 
ing— the  former  in  Western,  the  latter  in  Upper,  Asia — car- 
rying devastation  in  their  train.  Their  origin,  their  relation 
to  their  neighbors,  the  course  and  the  effect  of  their  inroads, 
remain,  as  far  as  I  can  discover,  still  unsolved  problems.  Yet, 
from  the  most  ancient  account,  we  can  recognize  the  character 
of  the  movement;  it  arose  from  hostile  collisions  between 
barbarian  races  still  in  the  process  of  migration,  one  pushing 
the  other  from  the  regions  it  was  occupying.  The  Scythi- 
ans, thus  hard  pressed  by  the  Massagetse,  pushed  forward,  in 
their  turn,  against  the  Cimmerians.  The  kings  of  the  Cim- 
merians and  their  immediate  adherents  called  upon  their  sub- 
jects to  defend  their  territory.  But  this  was  not  at  all  in 
accordance  with  the  practice  of  these  nations.  The  Cimmeri- 
ans were  inclined  to  continue  their  migratory  life  as  hereto- 
fore, and  carried  out  this  intention  in  a  war,  which,  it  ap- 
pears, was  connected  with  a  dissolution  of  the  polity  they 
had  hitherto  maintained.    Their  princes  were  slain,  and,  re- 


LYDIA  AND  MEDIA.  91 

lieved  of  their  restraint,  the  Cimmerians  penetrated  from  the 
shores  of  tlie  Euxine  into  Asia.  The  Scythians,  however, 
were  not  contented  with  tlie  district  thus  resigned  to  them. 
The  impetus  once  imparted  carried  them  farther;  they  made 
successful  inroads  in  Upper  Asia,  where,  for  a  considerable 
period,  they  ruled  supreme.  The  conflicting  elements  are 
clearly  marked ;  we  find  nomadic  nations  effecting  an  inroad 
into  regions  which  are  already  what  may  properly  be  called  a 
civilized  world — districts,  that  is,  with  a  settled  population, 
in  which  social  progress  has  made  a  beginning,  and  in  which 
some  advance  has  been  made  towards  a  peaceful  existence 
resting  on  the  support  of  laws. 

If,  then,  the  Assyrians  exercised  the  supreme  power^p 
these  regions,  on  them  devolved  the  duty  of  averting  these 
attacks,  and,  accordingly,  we  find  that  it  was  from  the  Assyr- 
ians that  Gyges  of'  Lydia  sought  protection,  binding  him- 
self for  the  sake  of  it  to  a  kind  of  subjection.  But  Assur- 
banipal  was  far  too  busily  engaged  in  quelling  successive 
waves  of  insurrection  to  be  able  to  secure  the  frontiers  of 
Lydia,  and  the  Cimmerians  and  the  Scythians  overran  that 
country.  We  find  them  in  Asia  Minor,  and  the  check  they 
received  at  Ephesus  is  ascribed  to  the  goddess  of  that  city. 
They  continued  to  press  on,  even  as  far  as  Philistia,  where 
one  of  those  Egyptian  sovereigns  who  had  risen  to  power  as 
subject  kings  of  the  Assyrians,  Psammetichus,  the  son  of  the 
first  Necho,  contrived  by  paying  them  a  sort  of  tribute  to 
save  the  Delta  from  a  desolating  invasion.  The  defence  was 
thus  really  made  by  the  subordinate  powers,  and  the  Lydi- 
ans  gained  in  consequence  reputation  and  respect.  Besides 
Psammetichus,  we  find  the  prince  of  Cilicia  mentioned  as 
the  ally  of  the  Lydians.  The  Scythians,  taking  another  di- 
rection, encountered  the  opposition  of  Media,  then  growing 
into  a  state  and  engaged  in  war  with  Assyria.  The  Median 
king,  Kyaxares  (Uvakshatara),  was  overthrown  by  them ;  but, 
quietly  and  gradually  collecting  his  forces  together,  he  con- 
trived, after  destroying  the  leaders  of  the  Scythians,  under 
the  pretence  of  friendship,  to  make  himself  master  of  the  na- 
tion itself.  Assyria,  if  not  already  too  far  gone  to  interfere 
decisively,  at  any  rate  neglected  to  do  so. 


92  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

Lydia  and  Media,  which  had  done  the  greatest  service  in 
the  defence  against  the  barbarians,  now  went  to  war  with 
each  other,  the  Lydians  ascribing  the  inroad  of  the  Scythians 
to  the  Modes  themselves.  Tlie  armies  of  the  two  powers  met 
on  tlie  banks  of  the  Ilalys.  The  battle,  however,  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  natural  phenomenon  which  both  sides  interpret- 
ed as  an  intimation  from  the  gods  counselling  them  to  peace ; 
this  was  the  eclipse  of  the  sun  which  took  place  on  Septem- 
ber 30,  B.C.  610.  Such  an  event  ought  scarcely  to  have  been 
needed  to  remind  the  two  kings  that  it  was  their  interest  to 
abstain  from  tearing  each  other  to  pieces,  and  to  spend  all 
their  strength  in  opposing  the  common  enemy.  The  two 
princes,  Alyattes  and  Kyaxares,  made  a  close  family  alliance. 
Their  friendship  was  an  indispensable  preliminary  to  further 
defence  against  barbarians.  Some  years  afterwards  these  in- 
vaders were  actually  compelled  to  abandon  Asia. 

Nineveh  could  now  make  no  further  opposition  to  the  re- 
bellious Medes,  strengthened  as  they  were  by  the  success  of 
their  resistance  to  the  Scythians.  That  city  fell  into  their 
hands  about  the  year  606.  Whether  the  I3abylonians  lent 
them  any  assistance  is,  as  we  have  already  mentioned,  very 
doubtful ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  they  were  allies  of  Ky- 
axares. The  enterprises  in  Western  Asia  which  we  have  men- 
tioned could  not  have  otherwise  taken  place.  In  Upper  Asia, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  Medes  wxre  supreme,  and,  after  the 
brief  interval  of  the  Scythian  inroad,  they  assumed  the  posi- 
tion of  masters  of  the  world.  Inroads  of  this  kind,  which 
threaten  with  destruction  the  civilization  so  painfully  acquired, 
have  been  from  time  to  time  repeated.  Amongst  the  latest 
were  the  invasions  of  the  Magyars,  which  harassed  the  Carlo- 
vingian  empire  in  the  tenth  century  of  our  era.  Kyaxares 
may  be  regarded  as  the  unconscious  prototype  of  the  German 
Ilenry  I.,  who,  by  the  check  he  gave  to  the  Magyars,  made 
the  Saxons  supreme  in  Germany. 

If,  however,  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  relations  between 
nation  and  nation  in  the  seventh  and  eighth  centuries  before 
our  era,  we  find,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  general  combination  be- 
tween the  several  races  of  humanity.  Although  the  chief 
elements  of  wliich  Assyria  was  composed  belonged  esscn- 


RISE  OF  THE  MEDES.  93 

tially  to  tlie  Semitic  stock,  that  empire  was  so  extensive  that 
it  everywhere  reached  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Semitic  na- 
tionalities. The  subjugation  of  Egypt  is  an  instance  in  point. 
Ethiopians  and  Libyans,  the  Greeks  in  Cyprus  and  on  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean  generally,  as  well  as  the  Medo- 
Persian  races,  who  belonged  again  to  a  different  nationality  and 
religion,  were  all  disturbed  and  partially  subjugated  by  As- 
syria. The  Medes  and  Persians  belonged  to  an  eastern  group 
of  nations,  the  Greeks  to  the  tribes  which  peopled  the  West. 
If  we  go  back  to  those  prehistoric  times,  the  existence  of 
which  we  infer  from  comparative  philology,  both  must  be 
counted  among  the  Indo-Germanic  nations,  and  clearly  dis- 
tinguished from  the  Semitic  world,  which  has  just  been  mak- 
ing an  attempt  to  overpower  those  branches  of  the  Indo- 
Germanic  family.  Whether  an  accommodation  would  be 
arranged  between  the  active  elements  of  the  Semitic  world 
and  the  Grecian,  as  well  as  the  Medo-Persian  elements  settled 
in  its  immediate  neighborhood,  was  one  of  the  problems  of 
universal  history.  Both  sides,  however,  came  into  conflict 
with  nations  belonging  to  the  third  section  of  the  primeval 
races  of  mankind.  The  inroad  of  the  Scythians,  who  are  of 
Mongolian  stock,  menaced  with  destruction  the  Semitic  world 
as  it  was  then  united  under  the  sceptre  of  the  Assyrian  kings. 
They  were  repulsed,  not  by  the  Assyrians,  but  by  the  Medes. 
In  the  struggle  the  latter  came  into  conflict  with  neighboring 
nations,  such  as  the  Lydians,  among  whom  again  Semitic  ele- 
ments can  be  recognized.  It  is  the  Medes  who  at  length  se- 
cure the  civilized  world,  as  we  may  already  call  it,  against 
that  inroad. 

We  find  in  the  inscriptions  of  the  kings  of  Assyria  frequent 
mention  of  their  enterprises  against  Media  and  its  incessant 
resistance,  as  well  as  of  wars  against  the  Parsua,  who  refuse  to 
acknowledge  the  god  Assur.  In  these  undertakings  the  As- 
syrians always  figure  as  victorious,  and  we  may  at  least  with 
certainty  infer  from  this  that  till  the  last  quarter  of  the  sev- 
enth century  no  independent  power  had  established  itself  in 
these  regions. 

As  to  the  manner,  however,  in  which  such  a  power  was 
first  formed  by  the  Medes,  and  how  this  was  succeeded  by  a 


94  THE  MEDOPERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

union  between  the  Medes  and  the  Persians,  we  possess  nothing 
but  legendary  accounts.  These,  as  preserved  to  us  through 
the  Greeks,  bear  quite  a  diflFerent  stamp  from  that  of  the 
Oriental  records.  The  narrative  which  Herodotus  gives  of 
Deiokes  and  the  origin  of  the  Median  kingdom  is  no  more 
than  an  ingenious  and  well-invented  legend.  Its  peculiar 
feature  is  that  it  traces  the  origin  of  the  monarchy  not  to 
arms,  elsewhere  the  invariable  road  to  success,  but  to  that 
other  attribute  of  the  supreme  power,  the  administration  of 
justice.  The  most  just  man  was  chosen  to  be  chief  ruler  by 
free  election,  and,  in  order  to  bestow  a  higher  authority  upon 
him  than  upon  the  rest  of  his  race,  a  fortress  was  built  for 
him,  in  which  he  took  up  his  residence.  Whilst  the  people  of 
Israel  had  demanded  a  king,  primarily  to  go  before  them  to 
battle,  and  in  the  second  place  to  administer  right  and  jus- 
tice, it  was  the  latter  object  which,  according  to  the  legend, 
was  the  principal  one  in  Media;  the  fortress  is,  in  fact,  built 
as  a  defence  against  foreign  molestation.  No  one  will  be- 
lieve in  the  literal  correctness  of  this  account.  All  that  it 
proves  is  that  the  tradition  in  Media  premised  other  than 
the  usual  motives.  It  is  very  possible  that  the  names 
Deiokes  and  Astyages  are  rather  appellatives  than  personal 
names.  On  the  other  hand,  Kyaxares,  who  successfully 
achieved  the  defence  against  the  Scythian  and  the  conquest 
of  Nineveh,  is  an  indisputably  historical  character.  The 
process,  however,  by  which  the  supremacy  which  he  obtained 
was  transferred  to  the  Persians  and  extended  in  Western 
Asia  is  again  the  subject  of  legendary  narratives,  which  can- 
not possibly  be  accepted  in  the  form  in  which  they  are  pro- 
served. 

As  the  agent  by  whom  this  transfer  was  accomplished 
appears  the  mighty  form  of  Cyrus  (Guru,  Cores),  disguised 
indeed  in  legendary  traits,  and  at  a  later  time  exalted  to  the 
gods,  but  yet  recognizable  as  an  historical  figure.  Of  the 
history  given  of  his  youth,  according  to  which  ho  was  nearly 
related  to  the  Median  king  Astyages,  a  circumstance  which 
imperilled  the  very  first  moments  of  his  existence,  perhaps 
the  only  part  which  belongs  to  the  original  Persian  myth  is 
that  the  founder  of  the  Persian  empire  was  suckled  by  a 


CYRUS.  95 

bitcli,  as  the  founder  of  the  Koman  empire  was  by  a  she- 
wolf.  A  national  stamp  is  also  impressed  upon  the  story  of 
his  rise  to  power.  In  this  story  Cyrus,  himself  a  member  of 
the  principal  Persian  tribe,  the  Pasargadae,  and  of  the  princi- 
pal family  in  that  tribe,  the  Achasmenidae,  gathers  the  Per- 
sians round  him  and  rouses  them  to  a  consciousness  of  their 
position.  First  of  all,  by  compulsory  labor  of  the  baser  kind, 
he  displays  the  servile  condition  in  which  they  are  content  to 
live ;  then,  by  a  splendid  entertainment,  he  introduces  them 
to  the  sweets  of  power  which  are  within  their  reach.  Dis- 
gust at  the  first  stimulates  them  to  an  eager  endeavor  to 
achieve  the  second.  On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  regarded 
as  an  originally  Median  tradition  that  it  was  the  alliance  of 
Median  kings  with  the  young  Persian,  who  claimed  the  throne 
by  hereditary  right,  which  brought  about  the  defeat  of  the 
king  of  Media  and  the  transference  of  his  power  to  Cyrus. 
According  to  this  view,  Cyrus,  in  the  closest  alliance  with  the 
Modes,  although  himself  of  a  different  nationality  and  relig- 
ion, founds  a  Medo-Persian  monarchy  in  the  place  of  the  As- 
syrian. A  rich  garland  of  legend  adorns  his  struggle  with 
the  Lydians,  in  which  he  continued  the  work  of  Kyaxares, 
conquered  Croesus,  king  of  Lydia,  and  made  Sardis  the  seat 
of  a  Persian  satrapy.  He  then  proceeds  to  the  conquest  of 
Babylon.  The  legend  unites  details  which  are  simply  myth- 
ical, the  distribution,  for  example,  of  a  river  into  360  canals, 
with  an  exploit  which  verges  on  the  incredible,  the  seizure  of 
the  defences  which  the  Babylonians  had  erected  for  their  cap- 
ital in  connection  with  the  irrigation  system  of  the  Euphrates. 
Prudent  generalship  and  wonderful  success  are  combined  in 
the  person  of  Cyrus:  this  is  the  essential  truth  which  the 
legend  yields  us.  Cyrus  became  master  of  the  whole  region 
which  Nebuchadnezzar  had  held  in  subjection,  but  was  not  a 
worshipper  of  the  deities  whom  Assyria  and  Babylon  had  op- 
posed to  the  religion  of  Jehovah. 

The  fact  that  the  Persian,  the  votary  of  monotheism,  puts 
an  end  to  the  exile  of  the  Jews,  who  believe  in  Jehovah,  and 
lets  them  return  to  Jerusalem,  has  its  political  as  well  as  its 
religious  aspect.  The  influence  of  the  Assyrians  settled  in 
Canaan  is  now  counterbalanced  by  a  community  immediately 


96  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

established  by  the  king  himself,  and  unreservedly  devoted  to 
him,  which  secures  for  hira  the  possession  of  Western  Asia. 
Then  Cyrus  turns  his  arms  against  those  enemies  who  had 
formerly  shaken  the  Assyrian  empire  to  its  foundations,  es- 
pecially against  the  Massagetge.  It  was  they  who  had,  from 
beyond  the  Jaxartes,  driven  the  Scythians,  a  race  of  kindred 
stock,  to  make  the  expedition  alluded  to  above.  AVe  dare 
not  attempt  to  repeat  the  marvellous  narrative  of  Herodotus. 
It  is  the  less  necessary  to  do  so  because  there  are  other  tra- 
ditions which,  though  diverging  in  details,  agree  in  tlie  main 
fact  that  the  great  conqueror  did  not  return  from  this  cam- 
paign.* Legend  invents  no  facts  and  describes  no  characters ; 
it  only  seizes  upon  the  principal  enterprises,  and  enhances 
their  success  or  failure  by  embellishments  of  a  correspond- 
ing color.  The  Scythians  remained  unsubdued,  but  at  the 
same  time  desisted  from  further  inroads  into  the  Persian  em- 
pire. We  need  only  pay  attention  to  the  main  facts,  which 
are  undeniably  historical.  The  general  result  is  that  through 
the  Medo-Persian  power  Cyrus  infused  new  life  into  the  As- 
syrian empire,  and  thus  in  a  certain  sense  restored  it,  whilst 
he  discarded  the  religious  violence  which  the  Assyrians  and 
Babylonians  had  exercised.  He  introduced  into  the  mon- 
archy a  trait  which  distinguishes  it  from  despotism. 

Nevertlieless  the  universal  empire  was  not  yet  united,  as  it 
had  been  under  Esarhaddon  or  Assurbanipal.  Cambj'ses,  son 
of  Cyrus,  boasted  that  he  was  greater  than  his  father,  per- 
haps because  he  acquired  Egypt  also,  and  obtained  maritime 
supremacy.  lie  conquered  Egypt  with  the  assistance  of  the 
Arabians,  and  thus  made  his  approach  by  way  of  the  desert. 


•  The  death  of  Cyrus  falls  in  the  year  529,  the  conquest  of  Babylon 
nine  years  earlier,  i.  e.  588.  Soliuus  (c.  113)  places  the  capture  of  Sardis 
in  ti)C  58th  Olympiad,  Eusebius  (ap.  Hicron.)  in  the  first  year  of  this 
Olympiad,  i.  e.  649  B.C.  Herodotus  (1. 214)  makes  Cyrus  reign  for  twenty- 
nine  years  afler  his  victory  over  Astyages,8o  that  the  latter  event  is  to  be 
assigned  to  the  year  558.  Eusebius  gives  Cyrus  a  reign  of  thirty  years 
from  the  fall  of  Astyages  (i.  e.  in  the  Canon  ;  thirty-one  years  in  theChro- 
nography).  Thirty  years  is  the  period  assigned  also  by  Ctesias,  Dinon 
(ap.  MUUcr,  ♦*  Frag.  Hist.  Grajc."  ii.  p.  91,  frgt.  10),  and  Trogus  Pompciui 
(ap.  Justin,  i.  8, 14). 


CAMBYSES.  97 

ns  an  Assyrian  and  perhaps  also  a  Babylonian  king,  in  antag- 
onism to  the  Greeks,  upon  whom  the  Pharaohs  of  that  time 
placed  more  reliance  than  on  the  power  of  their  own  king- 
dom. We  can  scarcely  repeat  what  the  Greek  legend,  as 
given  by  Herodotus,  tells  us  of  Cambyses.  This  story  repre- 
sents him  as  a  despiser  of  the  Egyptian  religion,  and  makes 
him  give  the  god  Apis,  on  his  reappearance  in  his  animal 
form,  a  wound  in  the  shank,  of  which  the  animal  dies.  But 
we  find  an  Egyptian  monument  on  which  he  is  represented 
making  supplication  to  Apis,*  and  an  inscription  belonging 
to  a  high  official  who  was  his  contemporary  affirms  circum- 
stantially that  the  king  spared  the  Egyptian  worship,  and 
even  promoted  its  interests.  According  to  this  we  should 
have  to  regard  him  as  an  opponent  of  innovations  attempted 
by  the  Assyrian  kings  in  Egypt,  as  his  father  had  been  of 
those  in  Judaea. 

The  account  of  his  enterprises  against  the  long-lived  Ethio- 
pians and  the  Ammonians  rests  upon  a  better  historic  founda- 
tion. The  monuments  attest  that  the  Persians  made  inva- 
sions in  both  directions.  Meroe  itself  was  conquered  by  Cam- 
byses, and  perhaps  restored  and  renovated.  Again,  on  the 
way  towards  the  temple  of  Ammon  we  find  traces  of  the  Per- 
sian domination.  The  narrative  only  gives  in  general  terms 
the  limits  of  their  expeditions ;  the  more  remote  goals  may 
have  been  aimed  at,  but  were  never  reached.  The  Persian 
supremacy  on  the  Mediterranean  also  was  not  unlimited.  We 
hear  that  the  Phoenicians  declined  to  let  their  navy  be  em- 
ployed in  an  attack  upon  Carthage.  There,  accordingly,  one 
centre  of  the  Semitic  dominion  by  sea  maintained  itself  in 
complete  independence.  In  short,  limits  were  set  to  the  Per- 
sian empire  towards  the  west  as  well  as  towards  the  north. 
We  find  the  Assyrian  empire  annihilated  at  a  single  blow,  and 


*  The  account  Herodotus  gives  of  the  death  of  Cambyses  is  of  very 
doubtful  credit,  from  the  fact  that  he  has  connected  it  with  the  slaughter 
of  Apis ;  if  the  one  is  incorrect,  the  other  must  be  equally  so.  In  the 
same  way  his  account  of  the  death  of  Smerdis  cannot  be  maintained,  since 
we  learn  from  evidence  which  admits  of  no  doubt  that  this  took  place 
even  before  the  march  of  Cambyses  into  Egypt. 

7 


98  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

after  a  brief  interval  the  Persian  empire  in  the  ascendant. 
The  sequence  of  the  events  is  obscure,  and  every  detail  comes 
to  us  in  a  legendary  form. 

The  main  fact  is  that  in  the  second  half  of  the  sixth  cent- 
ury, after  the  AssjTian  empire  had  suddenly  disappeared,  a 
Medo-Persian  empire  rose  upon  its  ruins,  and  far  surpassed  it 
in  dimensions.  It  was  of  essential  importance,  if  the  nations 
were  to  be  held  together  under  one  rule,  that  the  centre  of  the 
universal  monarchy  should  be  moved  farther  towards  the  east. 
From  their  principal  seats  in  Iran  the  Persian  monarchy  ex- 
tended to  India.  It  is  impossible  to  speak  of  a  conquest  of 
the  world  by  the  Persians  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word. 
Power  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Medo-Persians  through 
the  capture  of  a  single  city.  The  Lydians  had  before  this 
been  subject  to  Assyria ;  if  Babylon  had  to  be  reconquered, 
its  independence  was  of  late  date ;  while  the  conquest  of 
Egypt  was  but  the  renewal  of  the  dominion  which  the  As- 
syrians had  lost  a  short  time  before.  The  Persians  passed  be- 
yond the  old  frontier  simply  by  associating  their  own  native 
land  with  the  empire,  although  it  is  true  that  this  brought 
with  it  the  accession  of  certain  regions  of  India  and  opened 
the  way  towards  the  east. 

When,  however,  we  take  into  consideration  the  constant 
revolts  made  by  towns  or  districts  in  the  assertion  of  their  in- 
dependence even  under  the  Assyrians,  revolts  only  suppressed 
by  the  exertion  of  superior  force,  and  then  consider  further 
the  natural  difficulties  which  hindered  the  maintenance  of  su- 
preme power  over  all  these  distinct  provinces,  it  becomes  ob- 
vious at  once  what  consequences  were  involved  by  the  sudden 
collapse  of  the  dominant  family,  which  had  only  just  risen  to 
power.  Tiiis  family  was  a  branch,  the  elder  branch,  of  the 
Achoemenidce.  The  event  which  brought  prominently  forward 
the  great  question  connected  with  it  was  the  crime  of  Cam- 
byses,  who,  with  the  jealousy  of  a  despot,  put  to  death  his  own 
brother.  IIow  the  occurrence  was  explained  in  Egypt  appears 
from  the  narrative  of  Herodotus,  who  could  but  repeat  wliat 
ho  was  told.  It  was  said  that  Cambyses,  jealous  of  the  bodily 
strength  of  his  brother,  sent  him  home  from  Egypt,  and  sub- 
sequently, warned  by  a  dream,  gave  orders  to  slay  him ;  but, 


DEATH  OF  CAMBYSES.  99 

instead  of  the  news  of  his  brother's  death,  came,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  tidings  that  all  the  people  were  joining  him.  As- 
sured that  the  murder  had  really  been  accomplished,  Camby- 
ses  set  himself  in  motion  with  his  Egyptian  army  to  suppress 
the  insurrection  which  had  broken  out  under  the  pretext  that 
his  brother  was  still  alive.  But  at  the  outset  of  the  campaign 
he  accidentally  inflicted  upon  himself  a  wound  of  the  same 
kind  as  that  by  which  he  had  slain  Apis,  and  of  this  wound 
he  died  soon  afterwards.  This,  however,  could  not  be  true  if, 
so  far  from  destroying  Apis,  he  had  paid  him  homage.  The 
whole  story  rests  upon  fable  and  hearsay.  The  name  Cam- 
byses  is,  and  will  remain  forev-er,  a  kind  of  symbol  of  all  the 
abominations  of  an  odious  tyranny.  But  the  connection  of 
events  related  in  his  history,  as  delivered  to  the  Greeks,  and 
by  them  to  the  world,  cannot  be  maintained. 

Happily  we  have  a  Persian  inscription,  far  superior  to  those 
of  the  Assyrians  in  completeness  of  detail,  though  otherwise 
resembling  them  in  form,  from  which  we  derive  better  in- 
formation as  to  the  course  of  events.  It  is  the  first  document 
in  Persian  history  which  makes  us  feel  that  we  are  upon  firm 
ground.  Like  the  Assyrian  inscriptions,  it  is  drawn  up  in  the 
name  of  the  king.  From  this  inscription  we  learn  that  Cam- 
byses  had  destroyed  his  brother  even  before  his  enterprise 
against  Egypt,  but  that  the  crime  was  kept  a  secret.  As  soon 
as  it  became  known  there  was  a  universal  commotion,  especi- 
ally in  the  army.  The  word  which  signifies  "army"  may 
also  stand  for  the  state.  Both  alike  were  exposed  to  danger 
if  there  were  only  a  single  scion  of  the  family  to  which  they 
were  attached.  It  has  been  doubted  whether  by  the  army  is 
meant  that  division  of  it  which  went  with  Cambyses  to  Egypt 
or  the  other  which  remained  behind.  There  is  no  apparent 
reason  why  it  may  not  have  been  both.  In  the  conflict  that 
ensued  Cambyses  died  by  his  own  hand.* 

*  The  passage  in  the  inscription  at  Bisitim  which  refers  to  the  death 
of  Cambyses  has  been  very  variously  translated.  In  Benfey  the  trans- 
lation runs, "  Cambubiya  died  of  excessive  rage."  Others  suppose  tliat  he 
killed  himself,  but  think  this  may  be  reconciled  with  the  account  of  He- 
rodotus, as  it  is  not  said  he  slew  himself  intentionally.  Kossowicz  has 
"  a-se-allata-sibi-morte  decessit."     On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  objected 


100  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

The  consequence  of  this  was  that  the  question  of  the  suc- 
cession, which  had  excited  the  tumult  among  the  troops,  en- 
tered upon  a  stage  in  which  it  assumed  its  full  importance ; 
for  the  power  of  the  Achaemenidse  depended  upon  the  rela- 
tionship existing  between  the  ruling  family  of  the  Persians 
and  that  of  the  Medes,  a  consideration  of  no  light  importance. 
Although  it  has  not  seldom  happened  that  nations  which 
have  been  conquered  have  tried  to  find  a  kind  of  consolation 
in  discovering  for  their  new  prince  ties  of  descent  connecting 
him  with  the  old  dynasty,  it  is  an  experience  even  more  com- 
mon that  unions  of  an  analogous  kind  have  been  formed  with 
the  express  intention  of  alleviating  the  bitterness  of  the  trans- 
fer from  one  dynasty  to  another.  The  powerful  nation  of 
the  Medes  would  scarcely  have  brought  themselves  to  submit 
to  the  Persians  without  some  such  union.  With  Cambyses, 
however,  the  line  which  could  lay  claim  to  the  Median  throne 
by  right  of  descent  came  abruptly  to  an  end.  The  Achsemen- 
idse,  though  their  race  was  still  propagated  in  another  line, 
had  no  part  in  this  affinity,  and  so  were  excluded  from  all 
claim  to  continue  the  dynasty.  On  the  other  hand  the  Medes, 
in  like  manner,  had  no  right  to  claim  supremacy  over  the 
Persians.  If  they  did  so  notwithstanding,  it  was  only  by  as- 
suming a  disguise.  One  of  the  Magians,  who,  it  is  to  be  re- 
membered, are  a  tribe  of  the  Medes,  gave  himself  out  for  a 
brother  of  Cambyses,  expecting  thus  to  be  able  to  count  upon 
the  obedience  of  the  Persians  as  well.  This  is  the  Pseudo- 
Smerdis  so  universally  known  through  the  Greek  tradition ; 


that  where  the  self-destruction  spoken  of  was  not  the  result  of  delib- 
erate intention  this  is  a  fact  which  wonUl  need  to  be  added  even  in 
the  stylo  proper  to  stone  inscriptions,  else  it  would  be  unintelligible  to 
every  one.  In  the  inscription,  for  example,  of  Darius,  amid  all  the  varie- 
ties of  translation,  that  an  intentional  and  not  an  accidental  suicide  must  be 
indicated  admits  of  no  doubt.  We  might  even  find  in  the  action  a  touch 
of  heroism,  could  we  venture  to  assume  that  Cambyses,  abandoned  by  his 
army  and  his  people,  destroyed  himself  in  an  access  of  despair. 

(Added  in  ed.  2.)  According  to  a  communication  from  Ebcrhanl  Schra- 
der,  the  Assyrio-Babylonic  text  of  the  inscription  leaves  no  doubt  of  the 
fact  that  Cambyses  died  by  suicide.  He  translates  it,  ''After  this  Cam* 
byscs  died  the  death  of  himself.^' 


ACCESSION  OF  DARIUS.  101 

among  the  Persians  he  appears  under  the  name  Ganmata. 
It  is  perfectly  true  that  he  kept  himself  in  strict  retirement, 
in  order  not  to  be  seen  by  any  one  who  had  known  the 
younger  son  of  Cyrus ;  indeed,  there  is  much  generally  in  the 
Greek  narratives  which  has  the  accent  of  truth.  It  is  only 
the  vicissitudes  of  the  harem,  the  neighing  horse,  and  the 
other  pleasant  histories  with  which  they  beguile  the  hearer  or 
reader  that  we  must  hesitate  to  repeat  after  them;  and  so 
also  with  the  disquisitions  on  the  best  form  of  polity,  which 
are  said  to  have  preceded  the  elevation  of  the  new  king  to 
the  throne.  This  king  himself  simply  affirms  that  the  Per- 
sians were  convinced  that  the  younger  son  of  Cyrus  had  been 
murdered,  and  were  not  disposed  to  submit  to  the  usurpation 
of  the  Magian. 

Among  the  Achaemenidae  there  was  a  young  man  who  was 
determined  to  assert  his  rights.  Acting  in  concert  with  the 
chiefs  of  the  six  other  Persian  tribes,  he  forced  his  way  into 
the  palace  of  Gaumata  and  slew  him.*  It  was,  we  may  say, 
the  combined  act  of  all  the  Persians,  the  chiefs  of  their  tribes 
uniting  for  the  purpose.  They  were  unwilling  to  be  governed 
by  any  Median,  least  of  all  by  one  who  did  not  scruple  to  do 
violence  to  their  old  institutions  and  usages,  including  even 
those  of  religion.  Darius  says  in  the  inscription,  "  I  took  the 
kingdom  from  him,  and  restored  it  as  it  had  existed  before 
him.  I  was  king."  This  violent  occupation,  however,  brought 
the  other  side  of  the  question  into  prominence.  It  remained 
to  be  seen  whether  the  Medes  would  obey  a  Persian,  and 
whether  the  other  nations  would  acknowledge  the  supremacy 
of  a  usurper. 

The  first  to  revolt  were  the  Babylonians,  who  immediately 
before  the  reign  of  Cyrus  had  been  in  possession  of  complete 
independence.  Almost  the  first  act  of  the  new  government 
was  a  campaign  undertaken  by  Darius  against  them.  He 
found  it  no  easy  task  to  conquer  them.  They  opposed  him  in 
his  passage  of  the  Tigris,  and  again  in  a  pitched  battle.     The 

*  Cambyses  reigned  seven  years  and  five  months,  Pseudo-Smerdis  eight 
months:  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Darius  Hystaspis  falls  in  the  year 
531. 


102  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

legend  is  that  he  was  then  compelled  to  undertake  a  long 
siege,  in  which  he  succeeded  by  a  stratagem  which  more  than 
verges  on  tlie  incredible.  lie  himself  speaks  only  of  his  vic- 
tories, as  the  result  of  which  he  had  taken  the  city  and  re- 
lieved himself  of  his  principal  antagonist,  who  falsely  called 
himself  king.  Darius  attributes  much  to  the  fact  that  Aura- 
mazda,  his  god,  declared  in  his  favor.  What  support  relig- 
ion may  have  lent  to  his  dynasty  we  shall  not  attempt  to 
determine.  But  there  are  other  circumstances  which  lead 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  conquest  of  Babylon  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  new  supremacy.  It  rendered  possible  the 
formation  of  a  new  army,  consisting  of  Modes  as  well  as  of 
Persians,  which  took  up  an  invincible  position  in  the  midst 
of  the  insurrections  that  broke  out  in  all  quarters  of  the 
empire. 

Of  all  these  insurrections  the  most  important  was  beyond 
doubt  that  of  Media,  where  Phraortes,  as  a  descendant  of 
Kyaxares,  the  real  founder  of  the  Median  monarchy,  assumed 
the  character  of  king.  This  brought  to  an  issue  the  most  im- 
portant of  all  the  questions  affecting  the  relationship  between 
the  dominant  Median  and  Persian  families,  the  question  which 
of  them  should  have  possession  of  the  crown  and  control  of 
the  army.  The  circumstance  which,  as  the  inscription  notes, 
decided  the  issue  was  that  the  army,  though  composed  botli 
of  Modes  and  Pei*sians,  was  not  misled  or  shaken  by  these  con- 
flicting claims,  but  continued  faithful  to  Darius.  He  could 
even  venture  to  commit  the  conduct  of  the  war  in  Media  to 
one  of  his  principal  lieutenants.  Phraortes,  who  had  been 
recognized  only  in  a  portion  of  the  country,  was  not  in  a  con- 
dition to  resist  the  veteran  troops  of  Darius.  He  'svas  de- 
feated without  much  trouble  (December  27,  521),  and  the  vic- 
tors could  quietly  await  the  arrival  of  their  king  in  Media. 
Darius  arrived,  and  Phraortes  marched  to  encounter  him  in 
person.  He  was  defeated,  and  retired  with  the  most  faithful 
of  Iiis  followers  to  Ragha,  wliere  ho  fell  into  the  hands  of  tho 
troops  of  Darius  and  was  brought  before  him.  lie  then  suf- 
fered tho  liideous  punishment  inflicted  on  a  traitor.  His 
tongue,  cars,  and  nose  were  cut  off,  and  ho  was  shown  in  tliis 
condition  to  all  tho  people ;  after  that  he  was  nailed  to  the 


INSURRECTIONS  AGAINST  DARIUS.  103 

cross  in  Ecbatana,  whilst  the  most  important  of  his  adherents 
remained  prisoners  in  the  fortress  there. 

In  my  opinion  this  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  decisive  event 
in  the  competition  for  the  crown.  The  claim  of  the  Magian 
was  in  itself  untenable,  and  its  falsehood  was  barely  concealed 
by  a  transparent  fraud.  It  was  a  matter  of  far  more  serious 
import  when  a  leader  arose  who  derived  his  origin  from 
Kyaxares :  such  a  leader  really  represented  the  Median  as  op- 
posed to  the  Persian  interest.  That  he  was  defeated  was  the 
achievement  of  an  army,  with  the  king  at  its  head,  composed 
of  Medes  as  well  as  Persians.  The  conquests  of  Cyrus  and 
Cambyses  had  only  been  preliminary  steps;  it  was  under 
Darius  that  the  empire  was  for  the  first  time  firmly  estab- 
lished. 

Close  upon  these  events  in  Media  follows  a  revolt  in  Sagar- 
tia,  which  was  reckoned  as  belonging  to  Media.  Here  another 
presumed  descendant  of  Kyaxares  arose,  only,  however,  to 
meet  with  the  same  fate  as  Phraortes :  he  was  conquered,  made 
prisoner,  mutilated,  and  crucified.  Phraortes  had  numerous 
adherents  in  Parthia  and  Hyrcania.  Vista9pa,  or  Hystaspis, 
the  father  of  Darius,  marched  against  them  and  defeated  them. 
Darius,  however,  considered  it  necessary,  even  when  he  had 
mastered  Phraortes,  to  send  Persian  auxiliaries  to  his  father 
from  Ragha.  These  encountered  the  rebels  in  a  victorious 
battle.     " Then,"  says  Darius,  "the  province  was  mine." 

An  insurrection  in  Margiana  was  quelled  by  the  satrap  of 
Bactria.  But  Darius  was  not  perfectly  sure  even  of  the  people 
of  Persia,  since  he  did  not  belong  to  the  line  of  the  Achse- 
menidae  which  had  ruled  hitherto.  In  Persia  arose  a  poten- 
tate who  gave  himself  out  as  Bardija,  the  son  of  Cyrus,  and 
actually  found  a  following.  The  king  sent  a  Medo-Persian 
army  against  him.  The  Medes  had  now  to  assist  him  to  con- 
quer Persians.  The  new  monarchy  triumphed  both  over  its 
Median  and  its  Persian  antagonists.  But  the  false  Bardija 
had  been  so  powerful  that  he  had  been  able  to  send  an  army 
to  Arachosia  against  the  army  "  which  called  itself  that  of 
King  Darius."  After  his  defeat  and  death  in  Persia  his  army 
in  Arachosia  could  not  maintain  itself.  Arachosia  was  sub- 
dued by  Vivana,  the  general  of  Darius.     This  great  conflict. 


104  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN   KINGDOM. 

which  appears  to  have  taken  up  an  entire  year,  was  accom- 
panied by  an  obstinate  rising  in  Armenia,  the  task  of  subduing 
which  was  first  intrusted  by  the  king  to  an  Armenian  who 
had  remained  faithful  to  his  service,  and  who  was  successful 
in  overthrowing  the  insurgents  in  three  separate  engagements. 
But  the  standard  of  revolt  was  constantly  raised  anew;  indeed, 
the  situation  would  seem  to  have  become  more  dangerous, 
since  soon  afterwards  we  find  the  Armenian  army  in  Assyria. 
Darius  then  sent  against  the  insurgents  a  Persian,  who  inflicted 
a  defeat  upon  them  on  December  16,  620.  A  second  engage- 
ment followed  in  Armenia  itself,  in  which  the  Persians  main- 
tained their  advantage. 

We  may  here  note  the  difference  between  the  Assyrian 
cuneiform  inscriptions  and  the  Persian.  The  former  devote 
a  greater  amount  of  attention  to  their  antagonists,  and  give 
more  details  concerning  their  preparations  and  subsidiary 
forces;  the  inscription  of  Darius  contents  itself  with  recount- 
ing the  final  results.  Another  difference  is  that  Darius  acts 
more  through  his  generals,  whilst  the  Assyrian  kings,  almost 
without  exception,  head  their  troops  themselves. 

In  this  manner  the  provinces  which  formed  the  core  of  the 
Persian  empire  w^ere  brought  into  subjection,  after  a  course 
of  long  and  sanguinary  wars,  involving  the  destruction  of 
those  who  resisted.  The  Achaemenid  remained  master  of  the 
field  and  in  possession  of  the  throne.  The  principal  instru- 
ment in  attaining  this  end  was  the  Medo-Persian  army,  which, 
as  far  as  we  see,  was  organized  immediately  upon  the  death 
of  the  Magian,  subjugated  Babylon,  and  afterwards,  upon  the 
breaking- out  of  internal  dissensions,  remained  faitliful  to 
Darius.  The  conflict  is  always  one  between  two  distinct 
armies,  one  of  wliich  acknowledges  King  Darius,  and  is  some- 
times .even  attacked  on  that  ground ;  while  the  other,  as  the 
king  says,  refuses  to  be  liis  army,  and  follows  other  leaders. 
When  Darius,  in  relating  his  victories,  avers  upon  each  occa- 
sion that  they  fell  to  him  through  the  grace  of  Auramazda, 
the  meaning  seems  to  be  much  the  same  as  tiiat  of  the  declara- 
tion made,  as  we  have  seen,  by  Esarhaddon  and  Assurbanipal, 
that  all  their  victories  were  to  be  ascribed  to  the  god  Assur. 
Yet  in  this  case  also  there  is  a  difference,  the  significance  of 


THE  PERSIAN  RELIGION.  105 

which  is  unmistakable:  for  Assur  and  the  goddess  who  for 
the  most  part  is  named  with  him  are  warrior  deities;  Aura- 
mazda  is  a  god  of  justice  and  truth.  Subjection  means  with 
the  Assyrians  subjugation  by  violence,  with  the  Persians  the 
fulfilment  of  a  supreme  will.  That  which  most  contributes 
to  the  elevation  of  Darius  is  that  his  opponents'  claim  Avas 
based  on  falsehood.  Tlie  protection  which  Auramazda  lends 
him  he  traces  to  the  fact  that  he  is  the  true  king,  before  whom 
the  kings  of  falsehood  must  needs  be  overthrown.  This  pre- 
mises that  the  supremacy  had  with  justice  fallen  to  the  Acha3- 
menidae,  and  had  been  reached  by  the  transition  from  the  one 
line  to  the  other,  of  which  Darius,  son  of  Hystaspis,  was  the 
representative.  Thus  far  he  is  the  true  king,  and  is  recognized 
as  such  by  Auramazda.  This  is  the  purport  of  the  admoni- 
tion addressed  by  Darius  to  his  successors  upon  the  throne,  to 
avoid  all  falsehood,  never  to  show  favor  to  any  liar  or  traitor, 
for  this  would  be  to  run  counter  to  the  conception  of  a  true 
monarchy.  Royal  authority  thus  obtains  a  moral  significance 
to  which  the  whole  structure  of  the  kingdom  and  the  state 
must  be  made  to  conform. 

This  conception  is  most  intimately  connected  with  the  view 
of  the  universe  presented  in  the  Persian  religion.  In  the 
Zend-Avesta,  the  principal  archive,  as  we  must  consider  it,  of 
that  religion,  much  is  found  which  accords  with  the  mythol- 
ogy and  the  usages  of  ancient  India.  These  conceptions, 
however,  are  by  no  means  identical.  It  has  been  remarked 
that  Ahura,  the  supreme  god  of  the  Persians,  is  converted  in 
the  Asura  of  the  Hindus  into  an  evil  spirit,  whilst,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  Devas  of  the  Hindus  become  in  the  Davas  of  the 
Persians  evil  spirits  and  ministers  of  Angro-mainyus.  We 
do  not  venture  to  deny  the  identity  of  the  two  systems  in 
prehistoric  times,  but  we  are  just  as  little  disposed  directly 
to  assume  it.  In  the  epoch  at  which  the  two  religions  ap- 
pear historically  side  by  side  they  certainly  appear  in  antag- 
onism. The  faith  of  the  Hindus  and  the  faith  of  the  Per- 
sians may  be  brethren,  but  they  are  certainly  hostile  brethren. 
The  special  characteristic  of  the  Persian  religion  consists  in 
its  dualism. 

If  we  keep  well  in  view  the  contrasts  between  the  various 


106  THE  MEDOPERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

districts  and  nations  included  within  the  limits  of  Persia  and 
her  provinces,  the  incessant  struggle  between  the  settled  pop- 
ulations and  the  inhabitants  of  the  steppes,  between  the  cul- 
tivated regions  and  the  desolation  of  the  desert,  thrust  back, 
indeed,  yet  ever  resuming  its  encroachments,  the  ideas  of  the 
Zend-Avesta  will  appear  to  us  natural  and,  as  we  may  terra 
them,  autochthonic.  Auramazda  is  the  god  of  the  husband- 
roan.  The  Yendidad  begins  with  a  conversation  between  the 
sacred  founder  of  the  religion,  Zarathustra,*  whose  personality 
is  lost  to  us  in  myth,  and  Ormuzd,  the  god  of  the  good, 
whose  name  here  appears  in  the  form  Ahuramazda,  in  which 
the  latter  declares  that  when  yet  there  was  no  habitable  place 
he  created  an  abode  of  beauty.  "  A  creation  of  beauty,  the 
first  of  created  places,  have  I  created  ;  the  second  one,  destnic- 
tive  to  mankind,  did  Angro-mainyus  contrariwise  create." 
"  The  first  and  best  of  places  and  sites  have  I  created,  I  that 
am  Ahuramazda."  It  is,  so  to  speak,  a  successive  creation 
of  the  Iranian  lands  which  Auramazda  ascribes  to  himself. 
Among  the  names  are  found,  in  forms  not  difiicult  to  recog- 
nize, Sogdiana,  Merv,  Bactria,  Aracliosia,Ilagha  in  Media,  prob- 
ably also  Taberistan  and  India.  To  all  this  work  Ahriman, 
full  charged  with  death,  opposes  not  only  destructive  creat- 
ures, such  as  huge  serpents,  deadly  wasps,  protracted  winters, 
but  also — and  this  is  very  remarkable — intellectual  and  moral 
hinderances,  great  doubts,  idleness,  with  poverty  in  its  train, 
inexpiable  crimes,  unnatural  lust,  and  murder. 

The  principal  god,  Ormuzd,  is  certainly  revealed  as  creator 
of  the  world  and  giver  of  all  good ;  but  nowhere  was  the  con- 
ception of  evil  so  vivid  as  in  the  religion  of  the  2kind.  In 
the  beginning,  it  is  said  in  the  Zend-Avesta,  there  were  twins, 
the  Spirits  of  Good  and  Evil.  The  creator  of  the  world  is  the 
Spirit  of  Good,  but  is  opposed  by  the  destructive  power  of 
the  Evil  Spirit,  Ahriman,  almost  as  by  an  equal.  There  are, 
indeed,  indications  which  would  seem  to  show  that,  this  view 
being  found  inadequate,  the  existence  of  a  primordial  Being, 

♦  It  has  been  thought  that  the  name  Zoroaster  can  Ixs  recognized  in 
this  form.  Zoroaster  is,  however,  a  figure  at  once  reh'gious  and  mythical, 
whose  date  can  no  longer  be  determined.  Uis  name  has  never  been  ex- 
plained; his  native  land  is  unknown. 


)/ 


THE  PERSIAN  RELIGION.  107 

supreme  over  botli  principles,  had  been  assnnied.  According 
to  a  passage  in  the  Bundehesh  this  Being  is  Time,  in  which 
all  things  are  developed;  and  accordingly  we  find  definite 
periods  fixed  for  the  struggle  between  Ahriman  and  Ormuzd. 
But  this,  at  any  rate,  shows  that  a  supreme  intelligence,  upon 
which  everything  depends,  and  which  only  permits  the  exist- 
ence of  evil,  was  not  assumed  by  the  Persians.  All  created 
things  are  regarded  as  designed  for  the  struggle  against  evil. 
What  elsewhere  manifested  itself  as  the  salutary  power  of 
nature  is  here  regarded  as  a  host  of  companions  in  arms  in 
the  service  of  Ahuramazda  against  the  evil  principle.  Every- 
thing is  part  of  the  straggle  between  light  and  darkness,  waged 
in  the  universe  and  upon  earth.  The  Greeks  remarked  with 
astonishment  that  the  deity  was  worshipped  without  image  or 
altar,  and  that  the  sacrifice  was  nothing  but  the  present  of  a 
gift.  From  Xenophon's  "  Cyropaedia  "  we  see  that  they  also 
recognized  the  moral  impulse  by  which  the  Persian  religion 
was  inspired.  In  this,  perhaps,  we  ought  to  recognize  the 
distinctive  character  of  the  Persian  dualism.  Man  is,  or  ought 
to  be,  the  ally  of  Ahuramazda,  and  thus  every  virtue  becomes 
for  him  a  matter  of  duty. 

The  object  upon  earth  most  pleasing  to  the  deity  is  a  wise 
man  who  brings  his  offering;  next  to  this,  a  holy  and  well- 
ordered  household,  with  all  that  belongs  thereto;  third  in 
order  is  the  place  where  cultivation  succeeds  in  producing  the 
greatest  quantity  of  corn,  fodder,  and  fruit-bearing  trees, 
where  dry  land  is  watered  or  marshy  land  is  drained.  The 
Egyptian  religion  is  based  upon  the  nature  of  the  valley  of 
the  Nile,  the  Persian  upon  the  agriculture  of  Iran.  In  the 
institutions  of  the  sacred  books  which  belong  to  a  later  epoch 
little  is  said  of  the  monarchy.*  But  it  is  evident  that  a  high 
position  was  assigned  to  it  in  the  ancient  times  to  which  Da- 

*  Yiina,  the  Gemsclftd  of  the  later  Persians,  appears  in  the  Zend-Avesta 
as  the  founder  of  orderly  life  and  of  agriculture.  He  regulates  the  earth, 
introducing  the  best  trees  and  nutritive  vegetation  into  different  districts, 
bringing  thither  water  supplies  and  establishing  dwellings  in  them 
(Lassen,  "Indische  Alterthumskunde,"  i.  p.  518).  If  other  nations  wor- 
shipped the  powers  of  nature,  the  Persian  religion  bound  men  to  sub- 
jugate evil  in  the  natural  world. 


108  THE   MEDO-PERSIAN   KINGDOM. 

rius  belonged.  The  king,  who,  although  not  established  by 
the  Supreme  God,  is  yet  acknowledged  by  Him  as  the  rightful 
monarch,  is  at  the  same  time  the  champion  of  all  good  in  op- 
position to  evil ;  he  carries  out  the  will  of  Auramazda.  The 
whole  kingdom  is  organized  in  this  spirit,  and  the  king,  as 
the  expression  of  the  Divine  Will,  has,  so  to  speak,  a  right  to 
govern  the  world.  Yet  such  a  design  could  not  have  been 
entertained  if  the  dualistic  religion  had  already  been  crystal- 
lized into  a  system,  and  had  to  be  violently  forced  upon  the 
subject  nations.  So  far  was  this  from  being  the  case,  that,  in 
the  western  regions  of  Iran,  it  is  seen  to  be  accessible  to  foreign 
influences  derived  from  Mesopotamia.  In  Armenia  the  wor- 
ship of  Anahit,  originally  akin  to  that  of  Astarte,  prevailed. 
If,  as  Herodotus  affirms,  the  Persians  were  of  all  nations  the 
readiest  to  adopt  foreign  usages,  it  was  impossible  for  them 
to  persecute  such  usages  from  religious  zeal.  The  Persian 
religion,  which  asserted  such  high  claims  for  its  king,  was 
nevertheless  tolerant  of  those  local  faiths  which  prevailed  in 
the  provinces  of  the  empire.  This  was  necessary  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  position  occupied  by  the  Persian  as  a  universal 
monarchy ;  it  marks  the  essential  character  of  the  empire,  which 
first  enjoyed  a  settled  order  and  constitution  under  Darius. 

The  solidity  of  the  Persian  power  rested  upon  the  fact  that 
it  had  nothing  to  fear  in  the  East ;  Persia  even  ruled  over  a 
part  of  India,  although  without  crossing  the  Indus.  The  forti- 
fications on  the  Jaxartes  guarded  against  the  inroads  of  the 
MassagetsB  and  other  nomad  tribes.  Farther  westward  the 
Caucasus  formed  an  impenetrable  barrier.  That  frontier  was 
not  overstepped  until  tlic  invasion  of  Genghis  Khan  led  to  a 
struggle  between  East  and  West  which  continues  at  the  pres- 
ent day.  Thus  the  Persians  had  no  more  to  fear  from  the 
North  than  from  the  East.  Then  came  the  great  water  basins, 
the  Black  Sea  and  the  -^gean,  whoso  coasts  they  occupied 
without  being  mastere  of  the  sea  itself.  The  remoter  road- 
steads of  the  Mediterranean  stood  to  the  Pei-sians  in  the  same 
relationship  as  to  the  Assyrians ;  in  Egypt  they  did  not  push 
beyond  the  frontiers  of  the  old  kingdom  of  the  Pharaohs ;  on 
the  other  Land,  wo  liear  no  more  of  hostile  attacks  on  the  part 
of  the  Ethiopians.    The  frontiers  continued  the  same  until 


GOVERNMENT  OF  DARIUS.  109 

Koinau  times.  The  Persians  would  have  had  most  cause  to 
be  apprehensive  from  the  side  of  Arabia,  but  these  tribes  had 
not  as  yet  the  aggressive  impulse  which  they  derived  at  a  later 
date  from  religion  ;  if  thej  were  not  to  be  trusted,  they  were 
not  actively  hostile. 

The  districts  included  within  these  boundaries  were  divided 
by  Darius  into  satrapies,  which  he  generally  intrusted  to  Per- 
sians of  the  royal  house  or  of  other  families  of  special  emi- 
nence. With  the  satraps  were  associated  officials  immediately 
dependent  on  the  king,  who  limited  their  prerogatives  and 
kept  them  in  subservience  to  the  will  of  their  supreme  head. 
Everything  depended  on  the  recognition  and  maintenance  of 
the  regal  authority,  which  had  put  an  end  to  the  struggle  be- 
tween the  several  nationalities.  It  will  be  readily  understood 
that  this  authority  was  incompatible  with  the  peculiar  devel- 
opment of  these  nationalities.  The  government  of  the  king 
manifested  itself  everywhere  as  an  alien  power.  The  Persians 
did  not  content  themselves,  like  the  Assyrians,  with  an  un- 
certain tribute ;  dependence  was  clearly  expressed  in  a  careful 
assessment.  Yet  the  old  independence  of  the  nations  was  not 
absolutely  suppressed.  There  were  still  populations  which 
maintained  chiefs  of  their  own  race,  or  were  not  to  be  brought 
to  any  kind  of  obedience.  Persia  was  frequently  at  feud  with 
them,  but,  willingly  or  unwillingly,  had  to  tolerate  their  ex- 
istence. The  warlike  Carians  did  military  service,  but  under 
their  old  chieftains.  Sardis,  where  a  Persian  garrison  now 
kept  the  citadel,  was  not  much  less  of  a  capital  than  it  had 
been  before  under  its  own  kings,  and  the  closer  connection 
into  which  it  was  brought  with  the  East  gave  to  its  trade  and 
industry  a  new  impetus.  In  Cappadocia,  which  was  governed 
by  satraps  of  the  Achaemenid  line,  whose  descendants  in  later 
days  were  kings  of  Pontus,  we  find  sacerdotal  governments 
and  limited  monarchies  almost  independent  of  Persia.  In 
Paphlagonia  we  find  chieftains  who  were  in  a  position  to 
bring  120,000  men  into  the  field.  The  people  of  eastern  Bi- 
thynia  also  were  under  their  own  princes;  so  were  the  Cili- 
cians,  whose  rulers  were  often  engaged  in  war  with  the  satraps. 
Tarsus  rose  in  importance  through  the  great  commerce  be- 
tween the  northern  and  southern  provinces  of  the   empire. 


110  TUE  MEDO-PERSIAN   KINGDOM. 

Even  under  the  Persian  dominion  Damascus  and  Palmyra 
maintained  their  ancient  fame  and  splendor. 

The  Armenians  continued  to  live,  as  heretofore,  in  their 
patriarchal  fashion,  their  daily  occupation  being  the  rearing 
of  cattle.  The  satrap  had  to  live  in  an  unfortihed  place. 
From  Xenophon's  "  Anabasis  "  we  see  how  much  independ- 
ence was  possessed  by  the  populations  between  Mesopota- 
mia and  the  Black  Sea.  Babylon  remained,  as  heretofore,  the 
chief  seat  of  religion  and  of  trade.  The  ancient  Elam  had,  how- 
ever, become,  we  may  say,  the  centre  of  the  empire.  Here, 
in  Shushan  or  Susa,  the  City  of  Lilies,  was  the  principal  pal- 
ace of  the  king,  the  ruins  of  which  resemble  those  of  Baby- 
lon and  Nineveh.  The  towns  were  all  built  of  brick.  In 
the  mountains  independent  peoples  maintained  themselves, 
such  as  the  CnshaBans  and  Uxians,  to  whom  the  kings  were 
compelled  to  guarantee  rich  presents  of  gold  before  they  could 
visit  Persepolis  unmolested.  To  the  satrapy  of  Media  be- 
longed a,  number  of  rebellious  mountain  tribes,  and  the  agra- 
rian contrast  between  cultivated  land  and  wilderness  was  nearly 
coincident  with  that  between  subjects  and  rebels.  The  Mardi- 
ans  were  perfectly  free,  none  even  venturing  to  attack  them. 
Bactria  rivalled  Media  in  cultivation  and  in  density  of  pop- 
ulation, but  presented  the  same  contrasts  of  steppes  and  ex- 
cessively fruitful  districts.  It  was  here  that  the  religion  of 
Zoroaster  had  struck  its  deepest  root.  At  a  later  date  it  be- 
came a  special  centre  of  Greeco- Asiatic  culture.  Parthia  anjd 
Ilyrcania  were  united  in  one  satrapy;  the  Parthians  were  poor, 
the  Ilyrcanians  were  in  more  tempting  regions,  but  found  in- 
dependence in  their  forests.  They  seem,  as  we  infer  from 
the  name  of  their  capital,  to  have  kept  their  old  rulers.  Their 
district  has  had  a  reputation,  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
times,  as  the  home  of  excellent  warriors.  On  the  farther 
side  of  the  Oxus  was  Sogdiana,  the  most  important  of  the 
frontier  provinces,  which  had  constantly  to  repel  the  invasion 
of  the  nomad  tribes  of  the  north,  and  to  this  end  was  pro- 
vided with  a  series  of  fortresses,  one  of  which  bore  the  name 
of  Cyrus,  the  remotest  of  the  strongholds  which  perpetuated 
the  memory  of  the  founder  of  the  empire. 

In  the  centre  of  Iran,  Persia  itself,  the  home  of  the  race 


PERSEPOLIS.  Ill 

and  nation,  Darius  founded  a  royal  city  of  great  splendor, 
the  ruins  of  which,  by  their  squared  masonry  and  the  royal 
sepulchres  adjacent,  remind  us  of  the  buildings  of  Egypt. 
As  in  Egypt,  the  builders  took  the  marble  from  the  moun- 
tains in  the  neighborhood,  and  thus  were  enabled  to  tran- 
scend their  models  in  Assyria  and  Babylon.  Persepolis  ap- 
pears to  have  grown,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  mountain.  On 
broad  steps,  most  carefully  wrought  out  of  huge  blocks  of 
marble,  the  ascent  is  made  to  the  first  terrace,  the  entrance 
to  which  is  adorned  with  the  wonderful  animal  forms  of 
Iranian  mythology,  the  unicorn,  the  symbol  of  strength,  and 
the  winged  lion,  which,  decorated  with  the  diadem,  sym- 
bolizes the  irresistible  power  of  the  monarchy.  On  the  as- 
cent to  the  second  terrace  are  on  one  side  the  Medes  and 
Persians,  to  whom  the  supremacy  belonged,  represented  in 
their  respective  costumes ;  and  on  the  other  deputations  of 
the  subject  nations,  offering  their  presents.  The  regions  from 
which  they  come  are  indicated  by  their  dresses ;  some  are 
completely  clothed  in  furs,  others  only  girded  round  the  loins 
with  a  leathern  apron. 

An  image  of  the  king  is  carried  b}^  three  ranks  of  male 
figures,  who  stand  with  upraised  arms,  like  Caryatida3,  one 
above  the  other.  The  dress  of  the  first  rank  is  entirely  Medo- 
Persian.  In  the  lowest  rank  it  has  been  thought  the  costume 
and  hair  of  negroes  can  be  distinguished.  On  the  second  ter- 
race the  king  is  represented  granting  audience  to  an  ambas- 
sador. Behind  him  stands  a  eunuch,  with  a  veil  over  his 
mouth  and  a  fan  in  his  hand.  The  ambassador  is  seen  in 
a  reverential  attitude,  and  he  too  holds  his  hand  before  his 
mouth,  that  his  breath  may  not  touch  the  king.  It  is  a  splen- 
did monument  of  the  old  empire  of  the  nations,  in  which 
dignity  and  fancy  are  exhibited  on  a  grand  scale.  It  derives 
a  still  higher  value  than  that  imparted  by  its  columns  and  re- 
lievos from  the  inscriptions,  which,  on  the  building  itself  and 
on  the  sepulchres,  express,  in  the  different  languages  of  the 
empire,  the  pride  of  the  ruler  in  his  exploits  and  his  dominion. 

On  several  parts  of  the  building  may  be  read  the  inscrip- 
tion, "  Darius,  the  great  king,  the  king  of  kings,  the  king  of 
the  countries,  the  son  of  Vista9pa,  the  Achaemenid,  has  erected 


113  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

this  house."  It  is  above  all  things  his  origin  and  the  exten- 
sion of  his  power  over  other  kings  and  nations  which  is  at- 
tributed to  tlie  originator  of  the  building  as  the  foundation 
of  liis  glory.  On  the  walls  of  the  second  terrace  two  other 
inscriptions  are  found,  in  which  the  help  of  the  god  Aura- 
mazda,  who  is  the  greatest  of  gods  and  rules  all  countries,  is 
at  once  celebrated  and  invoked.  In  the  first  of  these  the 
Persian  monarchy  proper  occupies  the  foreground  :  it  said, 
"  This  land  of  Persia,  which  Auraniazda  granted  me,  which 
is  beautiful  and  populous,  through  the  protection  of  Aura- 
mazda  and  of  me.  King  Darius,  fears  no  enemy."  "  May 
no  enemy  come  into  this  province,  no  army,  no  scarcity,  no 
falsehood !  For  this  boon  I  entreat  Auramazda  and  the  gods 
of  the  country."  It  is  noticeable  that  besides  Auramazda  the 
gods  of  the  country  generally  are  invoked.  It  might  be  con- 
cluded from  this  that  the  religion  of  Ormuzd  was  one  first 
introduced  at  a  later  date.  What  is  perfectly  clear,  however, 
is  that  Ormuzd  tolerated  other  gods  beside  himself,  whilst 
remaining  himself  the  principal  deity.  From  him  is  derived 
dominion,  the  dominion  at  once  of  law  and  of  universal  order. 
The  second  inscription  has  special  reference  to  the  subject 
countries  and  nations.  The  king  describes  himself  as  "  great 
king,  the  king  of  kings,  king  of  the  many  countries,"  which 
he  then  names  one  after  another  to  the  number  of  twenty- 
four,  lie  says  expressly  that  he  governs  them  with  the  Per- 
sian army ;  that  he  may  not  need  to  tremble  before  any  ene- 
my, he  prays  that  Auramazda  may  protect  the  Persian  army. 
"  If  the  Persian  army  is  protected,  the  Persian  fortune  will 
endure  uninterrupted  to  the  remotest  time."  *  These  are  no 
exaggerated  phrases,  like  those  of  the  Egyptian  and  Assyrian 
inscriptions,  which  may,  notwithstanding,  have  served  as  a 
model ;  they  do  but  express  the  real  circumstances  of  the  em- 

♦  Spiegel  ("  Kcilinschriften,"  p.  47),  to  whose  translation  I  adhere,  al- 
though in  Oppert  and  M6nant  divergent  renderings  are  found.  A  Rus- 
sian press  has  the  merit  of  liaving  published  the  ancient  Persian  cunei- 
form inscriptions  with  tlie  addition  of  fac-similes,  and  accompanied  by  a 
Latin  translation  and  various  welcome  annotations.  This  is  the  work  of 
Cf^etan  Kossowicz, "  Inscriptiones  Palccopersicae  Acha;mcuidarum,"  Pe- 
iropoli,  1873. 


THE  PERSIAN  MONARCHY.  113 

pire.  We  recognize  here  the  conditions  of  dominion  stated 
in  progressive  sequence.  First  we  see  the  born  king,  who  is 
not  identified  with  the  deit}^ ;  he  distinguishes  between  the 
protection  of  the  god  and  his  own,  as  jointly  securing  the 
land  of  Persia  from  every  enemy.  Backed  by  the  dense 
population  of  Persia,  he  next  becomes  master  of  the  rest  of 
the  world.  On  the  army  depends  the  welfare  and  prosperity 
of  the  empire,  which  nevertheless  is  not  regarded  as  forming 
a  single  whole,  but  as  a  union  of  separate  subject  races.  How 
it  became  so,  and  what  is  the  basis  of  the  dominion,  is  next 
explained  in  a  fourth  inscription,  which  adorns  the  sepulchre 
of  Darius.  The  king  himself  is  represented  upon  the  out- 
side, a  fire  flaming  before  him  and  his  right  hand  raised  in 
prayer,  whilst  above  him  is  a  winged  form,  which  Herder 
took  to  be  the  "  Ferver  "  (genius)  of  the  king.  In  the  Fer- 
ver,  perhaps,  lies  the  deepest  moral  idea  of  the  Zend-Avesta. 
It  is  the  pure  essence  of  the  spiritual  creature,  from  which  it 
is  inseparable  yet  distinct,  created  by  Ormuzd  for  the  express 
purpose  of  contending  against  Ahriman,  and  therefore  by 
nature  combative.*  The  king  has  his  bow  in  his  left  hand, 
just  as  among  the  Assyrians  the  god  who  decides  the  battle 
appears  with  bent  bow.  The  strong  bow,  with  skill  to  bend 
it,  is  the  symbol  of  strength. 

In  the  inscription  attached  to  this  design  the  king  is  called 
not  only  the  great  king,  but  the  king  of  the  countries  of 
all  languages,  the  king  of  this  great  and  wide  earth.  Once 
more  the  countries  are  enumerated  which,  besides  Persia, 
were  governed  by  the  king.  The  list  is  more  complete  than 
the  former  one,  a  fact  which  of  itself  would  point  to  a  later 
date ;  in  it  the  Medes  figure  most  prominently,  and  there  are 
added  "the  lonians  with  the  braided  hair."  "I  rule  them," 
says  the  king;  "they  bring  me  tribute.  What  I  order,  that 
they  do ;  my  law  is  obeyed."  "  Auramazda  delivered  over 
to  me  these  countries  when  he  saw  them  in  uproar,f  and 

*  What  was  formerly  taken  to  be  the  Ferver  more  recent  judges  ex- 
plain to  be  the  image  of  the  god  himself. 

t  According  to  the  translations  of  M6nant  and  Oppert  the  meaning 
should  be  "  saw  them  held  captive  in  superstition,"  which  involves  no 
great  difference,  since  uproar  was  always  coincident  with  religious  claims. 


114  THE  MEDO-PERSIAN  KINGDOM. 

granted  me  dominion  over  them.  By  the  grace  of  Aura- 
mazda  I  have  brought  them  to  order  again."  Tlien  he  again 
lays  stress  upon  the  valor  of  the  Persians,  through  which  so 
much  has  been  achieved.  "  If  thou  askest  how  many  were 
the  countries  which  King  Darius  governed,  look  at  the  pict- 
ure of  those  who  bear  my  throne,  that  thou  mayest  know 
them.  Then  wilt  thou  know  that  the  spear  of  the  Persian 
warrior  hath  advanced  far,  that  the  Persian  warrior  hath 
fought  battles  far  from  Persia." 

The  reason  given  for  the  establishment  of  the  dominion  is 
that  all  countries  were  in  uproar — a  state  of  things  to  which, 
it  is  represented,  the  supreme  god  wished  to  put  an  end,  ef- 
fecting his  object  at  length  tiirough  the  valor  of  the  Per- 
sians. We  cannot  exactly  call  this  an  exaggeration  ;  for  as 
far  as  historical  evidence  extends  there  was  always,  especially 
in  the  western  regions,  an  internal  struggle,  in  which  the  Per- 
sians interfered  and  with  their  superior  forces  decided  the 
issue.  It  was  in  this  way  that  the  whole  edifice  of  their 
power  was  raised.  The  idea  of  order,  of  goodness,  and  of 
truth  is  everywhere  predominant. 

We  may  here  pause,  for  we  only  proposed  to  recall  to  mind 
the  internal  conflicts  of  the  ancient  world  up  to  the  point  in 
which  they  resulted  in  a  condition  of  equilibrium  and  tran- 
quillity. Such  a  condition  is  revealed  to  us  in  the  monu- 
ments and  inscriptions  we  have  mentioned.  Darius  himself 
is,  if  we  may  use  the  expression,  a  monumental  figure  in  his- 
tory. It  was  thus  that  the  Persians  of  later  times  regarded 
liim ;  he  is  the  original  of  Jemshid,  the  principal  monarch  of 
legend,  to  whom  all  peaceful  ordinances  are  ascribed.  In 
jEschylus,  who  was  near  in  date  to  these  times,  and  an  enemy, 
Darius  is  represented  as  a  paragon  of  greatness,  goodness,  and 
felicity. 

The  Book  of  the  Heroes  of  Iran,  the  poem  of  Firdusi,  by 
which  all  views  of  the  East  have  for  centuries  been  regulated, 
is  a  kind  of  universal  history,  linked  to  the  central  figures  of 
the  AchflemenidflB  and  the  great  king  of  the  Modes,  the  Per- 
sians, and  the  Bactrians,  the  three  races  which  compose  the 
ancient  Iran.  In  the  story  that  this  kingdom  falls  to  the 
gentlest  and  most  intelligent  of  the  sons  of  Feridun  we  may 


THE  PERSIAN  MONARCHY.  115 

trace  that  idea  of  culture  which  was  in  fact  the  vital  principle 
of  the  old  Persian  monarchy.  It  was  thus  that  Xenophon, 
who  was  near  in  date  to  that  epoch,  and  who  had  himself 
visited  the  East,  conceived  of  Persia.  In  his  Cyrus  he  sets 
up  his  ideal  of  a  monarch ;  he  is  one  who  combines  every 
form  of  culture  with  power.  Aristotle  did  not  entirely  share 
this  view ;  in  his  opinion  power  might  be  far  better  developed 
were  the  nations  free  like  the  Greeks. 


Chapter  Y. 

ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

In  the  foreground  of  universal  history  are  found,  as  we 
have  before  intimated,  not  great  kingdoms,  but  rather  com- 
munities within  narrow  limits,  belonging  indeed  to  tribal  as- 
sociations of  wider  extent,  but  yet  developing  a  social  unity 
of  their  own,  with  an  energy  and  vitality  of  individual  stamp. 
Religion  forms  a  bond  of  union,  but  there  are  local  divisions, 
similar  to  those  of  the  Canaanitish  tribes  before  the  attacks 
of  the  Egyptians  and  the  invasion  of  the  Israelites.  In  this 
circle  the  Phoenicians  stand  out  in  conspicuous  relief,  dwell- 
ing in  cities  or  districts  far  apart,  yet  interdependent,  and 
endowed  with  an  industrial  and  commercial  activity  of  the 
widest  range.  Independent  communities  maintained  their 
ground  over  the  whole  of  Syria,  in  Mesopotamia,  at  the 
sources  of  the  Euphrates,  even  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
Tigris,  in  Iran  proper ;  they  were  flourishing  when  the  Assyr- 
ian empire  rose,  and  though,  in  consequence  of  their  mutual 
dissensions,  they  were  subjugated  by  it,  they  were  not  entire- 
ly suppressed. 

To  the  populations  of  this  class  belong  the  ancient  Hel- 
lenes. It  has  been  remarked  that  of  all  the  branches  of  the 
Indo- Germanic  family  of  speech  the  Greek  idiom  is  gram- 
j  I  matically  the  most  elaborate  and  the  best  fitted  to  express  in 
adequate  terms  the  natural  logic  of  the  human  mind.  This 
initial  advantage  may  have  been  improved  by  the  natural 
character  of  the  region  which  the  Greeks  inhabited. 

Intersected  as  that  region  is  in  all  directions  by  gulfs  and 
bays,  it  forms  nevertheless  one  geograj^hical  whole.  That  it 
is  part  of  a  continent  is  a  fact  obscured  by  the  peculiar  for- 
mation of  the  country,  which  gives  it  a  semi-insular  character. 
The  mountains  on  the  north  separate  it  from  the  adjacent 


GEOGRAPHY  OF  GREECE.  II7 

continent,  almost  as  the  Alps  for  a  long  time  secured  Italy 
from  the  northern  nations.  Greece  is  in  proportion  to  its 
size  even  richer  than  the  land  of  the  Apennines  in  the  variety 
and  extent  of  its  coast  line,  which  stretches  to  all  points  of 
the  compass.  The  peninsula  of  the  Peloponnesus  presents 
beside  the  principal  chain  of  its  mountain  ranges  a  number 
of  smaller  peninsulas.  Central  Hellas  possesses  promontories 
in  Akarnania  and  Attica  extending  far  to  sea.  The  whole 
region,  again,  is  encircled  by  islands,  which,  although  for  the 
most  part  of  moderate  circuit,  form  each  an  independent 
whole.  In  this  region  life  was  based  upon  the  free  move- 
ment of  peoples  who  prided  themselves  above  all  things  on 
their  individuality.  The  sea,  unfruitful  though  the  Greeks 
called  it,  yet  formed  their  proper  element,  and  affected  all 
their  mutual  relations. 

The  varieties  of  character  presented  by  the  different  dis- 
tricts and  peoples,  each  of  which  cherished  traditions  peculiar 
to  itself,  make  it  easy  to  understand  how  it  is  that  the  oldest 
Grecian  history,  which  was  not  brought  together  till  later 
times,  exhibits  a  confusion  justly  described  as  chaotic.  This 
was  no  region  for  long  successions  of  kings,  such  as  those 
who  reigned  in  Egypt.  There  was  no  common  sanctuary  at 
once  uniting  the  nation  and  confirming  its  exclusiveness,  such 
as  was  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  to  which  the  Delphic  oracle 
has  only  a  remote  resemblance.  There  was  no  room  here  for 
great  towns,  the  seats  of  universal  empire,  such  as  Babylon 
and  Nineveh.  But  throughout  the  whole  of  Greece  life  had 
a  special  and  strongly  marked  character,  instinct  with  anima- 
tion and  intelligence. 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  original  population  was  sub- 
jected to  influences  from  more  highly  developed  nations  who 
crossed  the  sea ;  but,  if  so,  these  influences  were  transformed 
and  received  a  national  stamp  from  the  peculiarities  of  the 
Greek  character.  The  legend  of  Herakles,  the  greatest  of 
their  heroes,  has  indisputable  afiinities  with  Indian,  Baby- 
lonian, and  Phoenician  myths,  but  at  the  same  time  it  is 
Greek  to  the  very  core.  Even  in  opposition  to  the  authority 
of  Herodotus  the  Argives  and  Boeotians  refused  to  part  with 
their  own  local  Herakles.      Herakles  is  the  subduer  of  the 


118  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

monsters  who  make  the  country  insecure  and  uninhabitable, 
the  invulnerable  lion  in  the  ravine,  the  nine-headed  hydra  of 
the  marsh ;  he  is  to  the  Greeks  the  symbol  of  human  energ}^, 
divine  in  its  origin,  but  condemned  to  service,  and  making  its 
way  upwards  by  performing  with  toil  and  trouble  its  neces- 
sary task.  He  directs  his  irresistible  strength  also  against 
monsters  in  human  form ;  he  is,  as  an  ancient  writer  says, 
the  most  righteous  of  all  murderers ;  he  is  the  pioneer  of  a 
life  according  to  law.  In  spite  of  the  powerful  goddess  who 
persecutes  him  with  her  hatred,  he  wins  for  himself  a  place 
in  Olympus,  where  he  takes  everlasting  Youth  to  his  em- 
brace. 

The  fact  that  foreign  forms  of  worship  made  their  way 
even  into  Greece  admits  of  no  doubt,  and  they  were  prac- 
tised here  and  there  in  all  their  hideousness.  Even  on  Gre- 
cian soil  human  beings  were  sacrificed  to  the  gods,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Phoenicians ;  even  the  Greeks  thought  to  con- 
ciliate thereby  the  powers  of  destruction.  But  at  a  very 
early  epoch  they,  like  the  Hebrews,  discovered  a  rational  ex- 
pedient for  evading  these  bloody  rites.  The  legend  of  Iphi- 
geneia  in  Aulis  may  bo  compared  with  the  narrative  of  the 
sacrifice  of  Isaac.  The  custom  was  not  wholly  abandoned 
in  Greece,  as  it  was  in  Palestine,  but  it  assumed  a  milder 
character.  Instead  of  killing  human  beings,  it  was  counted 
enough  to  shed  their  blood,  without  causing  death.  It  is  re- 
lated that  Dionysus,  who  originally  at  Delphi  required  a  boy 
as  a  victim,  substituted  a  ram  in  his  place.  The  most  essen- 
tial detail  in  the  legend  of  Theseus  is  beyond  doubt  that  part 
of  it  which  makes  liim  put  an  end  to  the  monster  with  a 
human  body  and  a  bull's  head,  who  devoured  criminals  and 
prisoners,  and  also  to  that  tribute  of  children  which  the  Athe- 
nians had  to  render.  That  legend  shows  evidence  of  the  ten- 
dency through  which  Greece  was  enabled  to  sever  herself 
from  the  East.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  this  is  also  the  funda- 
mental idea  of  the  legend  of  Pelops.  He  owes  to  the  favor 
and  providence  of  the  gods  themselves  liis  escape  from  the 
horrible  death  which  his  father  inflicted  upon  him,  that  ho 
might  make  of  him  a  loathsome  banquet  to  set  before  them ; 
then,  with  the  winged  liorses,  given   him  by  Poseidon,  ho 


GREEK  MYTHOLOGY.  119 

reaches  Greece,  where  he  founds  a  race  of  rulers  more  dis- 
tinguished than  any  other  in  Hellas.  The  story  of  the  de- 
liverance of  the  Thebans  from  the  Sphinx,  a  monster  of  an 
Egyptian  type,  at  once  cruel  and  intelligent,  may  perhaps  be 
derived  from  the  opposition  to  these  foreign  forms  of  wor- 
ship. We  are  not  so  much  concerned  to  discover  what  the  in- 
trusive foreign  element  was,  as  to  note  the  way  in  which  the 
native  inhabitants  guarded  themselves  against  its  ascendency. 

From  stories  referring  to  the  epoch  when  the  land  was 
made  habitable,  and  to  its  liberation  from  the  foreign  rites 
which  degrade  man  into  a  beast  fit  for  sacrifice,  the  legendary 
history  passes  to  a  spontaneous  movement  in  an  outward  di- 
rection. JasoD,  who  personifies  the  maritime  activity  of  the 
Minyse,  sets  out  in  his  vessel,  in  which  are  gathered  the  most 
famous  heroes  from  all  parts  of  the  land,  and  boldly  breaks 
the  spell  which  has  hitherto  barred  to  the  Greeks  the  entrance 
into  the  Black  Sea,  in  order  to  bring  back  the  golden  fleece 
from  JEa,  or,  as  later  writers  said,  from  Colchis.''^  The  next 
great  event  is  the  Trojan  war.  The  legend  of  that  war  is  to 
be  taken  in  close  connection  with  the  contrast  between  Asia 
and  Europe,  a  contrast  which,  though  of  no  proper  geographi- 
cal importance,  has  a  very  real  weight  from  an  historical  point 
of  view.  For  on  the  one  side  the  coasts  of  Asia  were  in- 
volved in  those  general  complications  which  led  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  great  monarchies;  while  on  the  other  the 
Greeks  of  the  islands  and  of  the  peninsula  had,  as  it  were,  an 
innate  impulse  to  set  foot  firmly  in  Asia  Minor — an  impulse 
which  was  the  first  principle  of  their  national  and  even  their 
territorial  existence. 

Of  these  contrasted  tendencies  the  Trojan  war  is  the  result. 
Teucrians  and  Dardanians  are  identical  with  Trojans.  They 
belong  to  the  northern  nations  of  Asia  Minor,  and  to  that 
group  of  Thracian  nationalities  which,  coming  we  know  not 
whence,  spread  out  along  both  sides  of  the  Propontis.  They 
were  in  alliance  with  the  Phr^^gians,  Carians,  and  all  the  races 
of  Asia  Minor,  whose  districts  the  Greeks  invaded.     From 


*  Colchis  is  not  known  either  to  Homer  or  Hesiod ;  it  appears  fii'st  in 
Eumelus  about  01.  vii. 


120  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

the  local  recollections,  of  which  we  find  unmistakable  traces 
in  a  fragment  of  Mimnermus,  and  which  agree  with  certain 
notices  in  Herodotus,  we  may  conclude,  with  as  much  certi- 
tude as  tlie  subject  admits,  that  the  colonial  settlements  of 
the  Greeks  were  not  effected  without  violence,  or  without  en- 
countering strenuous  opposition.  That  there  was  a  primitive 
and  prehistoric  Ilium  is  demonstrated  beyond  doubt  by  the 
recent  excavations;  and  the  Homeric  poems  are  linked  with 
this  name.  But  the  struggle  was  no  isolated  one ;  the  Asiatic 
races  rally  round  Ilium,  while,  on  the  other  side,  there  is  a 
union  of  all  the  Greeks,  amongst  whom  the  Acheean  race  takes 
the  lead,  which  undertakes  the  contest  with  Ilium.  It  is  the 
wide  range  of  the  interests  involved  which  gives  to  these 
poems  of  Homer  their  background  and  character;  but  it 
must  not  be  supposed  that  they  have  anything  to  tell  us  of 
the  special  points  of  contrast  between  the  contending  nations. 
Such  details  would  have  been  useless  in  the  poetical  treat- 
ment of  the  action,  which  required  another  kind  of  interest 
to  engage  the  notice  of  posterity.  The  two  parties  at  strife 
with  one  another  require  to  be  homogeneous.  Even  the  in- 
terest of  victory  must  recede  into  the  background,  to  make 
room  for  one  more  comprehensively  human.  The  Trojans 
must  be  like  the  Greeks ;  they  must  worship  the  same  gods, 
and  the  forms  of  life  in  the  midst  of  which  they  move  must 
be  similar.  Of  these  forms,  however,  we  may  say  with  con- 
fidence, as  far  as  the  Greeks  are  concerned,  that  they  were 
not  invented,  but  corresponded  to  the  times  in  which  the 
poem  itself  took  its  rise,  long  after  the  events  which  gave  im- 
agination its  impulse  had  passed  away  even  to  their  faintest 
echoes. 

The  German  nation  has  the  advantage  of  possessing  the 
description  of  a  crisis  in  its  remotest  past,  drawn  by  a  con- 
temporary historian  of  the  first  rank ;  incomparably  greater 
is  the  advantage  of  the  Greeks,  who  have  inherited  from 
primitive  times  a  poem  of  native  growth,  which  brings  before 
us  with  unmistakable  truthfulness,  and  in  a  complete  form, 
the  conditions  of  their  life  in  its  earlier  stages.  Whether 
Agamemnon  and  Priam,  Achilles  and  Hector,  Menelaus  and 
Paris  are  historical,  or  in  what  relations  these  names  stand  to 


HOMER.  121 

the  events  of  actual  history,  are  questions  we  do  not  attempt 
to  discuss.*  We  renounce  all  attempt  to  determine  the  epoch 
at  which  a  Trojan  war,  if  there  ever  were  such  a  war,  really 
took  place.  But  the  social  conditions  represented  in  the 
Homeric  poems  cannot  be  mere  figments.  By  the  Greeks 
they  were  always  regarded  as  perfectly  real,  as  archives,  so  to 
speak,  from  which ^very  definite  claims  and  prerogatives  were 
derived.  Although  these  archives  take  the  form  of  a  poem, 
I  regard  it  as  permissible  and  appropriate,  in  speaking  of  the 
Greeks,  to  recall  to  the  memory  of  my  readers  in  their  main 
outlines  the  conditions  which  they  portray  and  upon  which 
all  later  history  depends. 

The  headship  is  invariably  centred  in  a  king,  who  is  neither 
identified  with  the  gods,  as  among  the  Egyptians,  nor  an  ab- 
solute ruler  over  subject-  districts,  as  among  the  Assyrians. 
He  may  rather  be  compared  with  the  petty  chieftains  who 
bore  rule  in  the  Ganaanitish  towns,  but  he  has  characteristics 
which  are  thoroughly  unique:  he  is  the  head  of  a  corporate 
organization.  That  the  royal  power  was  unconditionally  he- 
reditary cannot  be  maintained,  for  otherwise  Telemachus,  for 
example,  would  have  been  regarded  not  only  as  the  son  but 
as  the  successor  of  Odysseus  in  Ithaca,  which,  however,  is  not 
the  case.  The  chair  of  his  father  remains  vacant  in  the  as- 
semblies, although  he  is  told  that  his  race  is  more  royal  than 
the  rest,  which  implies,  not  indeed  a  right,  but  a  claim  to  the 
succession.  The  king  has  something  of  divine  authority. 
From  Zeus  comes  the  sceptre ;  fame  and  glory  are  granted  by 
the  god.  The  king's  honor  is  from  Zeus.  His  is  an  authority 
which  secures  him  high  personal  prerogatives,  but  no  unlim- 
ited power. 

In  peace  he  enjoys  the  revenues  of  the  Temenos,  or  the 
area  of  land  set  apart  for  him ;  on  him  depend  counsel  and 
action ;  he  collects  presents  from  the  people,  for  strangers,  it 
may  be ;  the  rest  must  follow  his  commands  and  bring  him 
gifts,  with  which  he  is  honored  as  a  god  and  acquires  riches. 

*I  had  already  written  this  long  before  I  was  acquainted  with  the 
essays  of  Miillenhoflf  ("Deutsche  Alterthumskunde,"  i.  p.  13  sq.),  which 
agree  iu  some  points  with  the  view  I  take. 


122  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

In  war  we  find  him  offering  sacrifice.  He  summons  and  dis- 
misses the  council ;  he  speaks  before  the  people ;  to  him  the 
booty  is  brought  and  lie  divides  it ;  the  greatest  share  is  pre- 
sented to  him.  The  elders  feast  with  him.  The  people  obey 
him  when  he  bids  them  take  a  particular  route  or  fight  brave- 
ly.    "  A  Zeus-nourished  king  has  great  thoughts." 

In  peace  the  king  is  surrounded  by  a  council  composed  of 
the  elders.  These  are  the  graybeards  who  no  longer  serve  in 
war,  but  are  practised  in  debate ;  it  is  they  who  give  counsel ; 
they  sit  with  the  king  in  his  palace  as  the  twelve  do  with 
Alkinous,  eating  at  his  table,  pouring  libations  to  the  gods, 
and  listening  to  the  minstrels.  The  king  of  the  Phgeacians 
appears  as  chief  among  the  thirteen  heads  of  the  people.  The 
chiefs  have  seats  reserved  to  them  in  the  general  assembly, 
and  in  trials  for  life  and  death  they  take  a  principal  part. 
As  in  peace,  so  also  in  war,  the  most  distinguished  of  the 
Achaeans  are  designated  as  the  "  elders."  They  too  are  sceptre- 
bearing  kings  ;  they  marshal  the  people  to  battle ;  the  people 
break  off  their  clamor  to  listen  to  them.  Though  there  is 
one  king  who  has  the  supreme  conduct  of  the  war,  the  rest, 
as  Achilles,  regard  themselves  as  his  equals ;  they  are  present 
at  his  banquet,  and  their  cups  are  kept  always  full.  After 
the  victory  over  Hector,  Alas  is  specially  honored  with  the 
chine  of  the  ox  offered  in  sacrifice.  They  assist  the  king 
with  their  advice,  and  he  does  nothing  without  them.  In 
peace  it  is  age,  in  war  it  is  valor,  which  finds  admission  by 
preference  to  the  council  of  the  king. 

If  a  matter  is  deliberated  upon  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
people,  they  too  have  a  voice.  While  Agamenmon  is  being 
required  to  give  back  Chryseis,  all  call  upon  him  urging  her 
restoration.  They  hold  their  gatherings  by  Agamemnon's 
ship.  They  are  addressed  as  well  as  the  king.  They  are 
"  friends,  heroes,  Danai,  servants  of  Ares."  As  a  rule  they 
are  quietly  summoned  to  the  assembly  by  the  heralds.  We 
also,  however,  find  Achilles  calling  them  together  with  a  loud 
voice.  In  this  assembly  the  old  men  speak,  as  well  as  in  the 
other ;  and  Nestor  distinguishes  the  two  when  ho  says, "  We 
were  never  of  different  opinion  either  in  the  council  or  in 
the  assembly."    The  people  answer  by  acclamation,  exultant 


HOMER.  123 

shouts,  and  other  intimations.  The  proceedings  in  Troy  are 
tlie  same  as  in  the  Grecian  camp ;  near  the  tower  of  Priam 
old  and  young  gather  together,  not  without  uproar.  In  the 
Odyssey  we  find  at  times  a  kind  of  division  taken  to  discover 
the  opinion  of  the  majority,*  whilst  in  the  Iliad  a  trial  is  con- 
ducted before  the  assembled  people.  So  it  is  also  in  Ithaca. 
Telemachus  causes  the  Achaeans  to  be  summoned  by  the  her- 
alds ;  then  he  places  himself  upon  his  father's  seat ;  the  others, 
the  "old  men,"  seat  themselves  around  him.  So  again  the 
market-place  of  the  Phgeacians  is  full  of  seats.  Such  is  the 
character  of  their  political  constitution.  They  <ire  differenti- 
ated by  youth  and  age.  The  claims  of  descent  are  not  by 
any  means  lost  sight  of,  but  there  is  no  class  of  nobles  with 
a  distinctive  training. 

The  poem  gives  to  every  man  his  meed ;  it  notes  who  is 
the  best  man  after  Achilles,  who  it  is  rides  the  next  best 
horse  to  his ;  who  is  the  handsomest,  w'ho  the  ugliest  man, 
who  the  most  excellent  in  his  business  or  craft.  The  gen- 
tle and  the  good  are  praised  accordingly.  For  the  relations 
of  family  life  conventional  attributes  have  been  formed,"  mild- 
giving"  for  the  mother,  "venerable"  for  parents  generally, 
"  dear,"  "  beloved  "  for  the  elder  brother ;  young  persons  not 
yet  full-grown  are  called  "  the  modest."  The  solitary  life  is 
brought  into  view.  The  lonely  man  who,  far  from  his  neigh- 
bors, on  the  extremest  point  of  land,  thrusts  the  firebrand  into 
the  black  ashes ;  the  hunter  who  sets  the  white-toothed  hound 
upon  the  boar;  others  who  in  the  heart  of  the  mountain 
rouse  the  echoes  as  they  fell  the  trees ;  the  reapers,  who  on 
the  estate  of  the  w^ealthy  man  work  till  they  meet  from  op- 
posite sides;  the  autumn  day  when  Zeus  rains  and  all  the 
rivers  are  full — the  whole  of  life,  in  all  its  dignity  and  all 
its  shortcomings,  is  set  before  our  eyes.  This  it  is  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  poem  from  all  others,  and  which  rivets  the 
reader's  attention.  So  circumstantial  is  the  picture  that  all 
semblance  of  unreality  disappears. 

This  w^orld  of  men  is  encompassed  by  an  analogous  world 

*  Instances  are  quoted  by  Schomann,  "  Griechische  Alterthiimer,"  i.  p. 
27,  another  work  wbicli  I  have  only  cursorily  inspected. 


124:  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

of  gods.  The  struggle  of  the  primeval  powers,  which  forms 
the  basis  of  the  cosmogonies  exhibited  to  us  in  Hesiod,  re- 
cedes in  the  poems  of  Homer  into  the  background.  The 
gods  of  Olympus*  constitute  the  only  system  of  religion 
which  takes  no  account  of  the  primary  origin  of  things,  and 
only  symbolizes  those  general  impulses  which  are  obvious  to 
all.  It  is  a  religion  of  the  coasts  and  islands  of  the  sea,  and 
of  those  relations  which  have  been  created  through  the  inter- 
course of  mankind.  It  reveres  the  headship  of  a  supreme 
deity,  whose  name  reproduces  the  designation  which  other 
races  also  give  to  the  Divine  Being,  but  who,  in  the  circle  in 
which  the  Greeks  place  him,  occupies  a  position  without  a 
counterpart  elsewhere.  Undoubtedly  the  other  Greek  deities 
also  are  to  be  connected  with  the  notions  of  light  and  dark- 
ness, in  fact,  elementary  conceptions  in  general,  as  well  as  the 
traditions  of  other  nations  which  have  touched  these  shores. 
But  these  are  aspects  never  brought  prominently  forward,  or 
developed  as  elsewhere.  The  gods  are  a  great  ruling  family, 
with  a  supreme  head  who  at  last  secures  obedience;  they 
have  distinct  characters,  and  innate  impulses  which  take  di- 
vergent directions  and  every  moment  act  upon  men.  It  is 
not  a  faith  of  universal  range,  or  ideal  and  abstract  character; 
the  motive  forces  of  the  religion  may  be  called  autochthonous 
in  their  origin,  for  they  are  inseparably  connected  with  the 
soil  and  the  locality ;  they  are  fused  with  the  life  of  human 
beings,  and  form  with  them  one  single  whole.  The  habita- 
tions of  the  gods  are  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of 
their  worshippers.  A  figure  that  stands  apart  is  that  of  the 
sea-god,  whoso  displeasure  can  at  any  moment  destroy'  all 
things.  Other  deities  interfere  in  the  employments  of  life — 
the  god  of  war,  the  god  of  the  arts,  the  god  of  daily  inter- 
course (an  incessantly  busy  deity),  and  the  goddess  of  sensual 
love.  From  the  head  of  the  supreme  deity  springs  the  god- 
dess of  thought.  Beside  the  rest  appears  the  god  of  prophecy 
and  song,  who  is  also  the  presiding  genius  of  the  weapon  that 
I  • — — — • 

♦Gerhard  (Qber  die  zw61f  Q6tter  Griechcnlands,  "Abhandlungcn  der 
Berlinur  Akadcraie  der  Wisscnscbaftcn,"  1840,  p.  389  sq.)  thinks  he  can 
find  as  early  as  Homer  deities  to  the  number  of  twelve. 


THE  DORIANS.  V(?'>'  ^^^ 

strikes  afar.  A  symbolism  such  as  this  was  not  tlie  result  of 
priestcraft  or  policy;  it  was  created  and  moulded  by  the 
fancy  of  a  poetic  age.  Separate  deities  belong  to  separate 
districts ;  the  feeling  of  nationality  finds  expression  in  the  as- 
sembly of  the  gods,  and  nowhere  else. 

But,  not  to  tarry  longer  in  this  vestibule  of  poetry,  let  us 
turn  now  to  history  proper.  Here  we  encounter  an  event 
which  annihilates  at  a  blow  the  ancient  conditions  of  the 
Achaean  epoch  as  described  in  Homer. 

The  Dorians,  who  are  scarcely  mentioned  in  Homer,  are 
seen,  in  absolute  contrast  to  the  fixed  relations  exhibited 
throughout  the  poem,  as  lords  and  masters  in  Peloponnesus 
and  as  the  dominant  tribe  in  Greece.  The  manner,  however, 
in  which  they  became  so  has  never  been  presented  in  a  lucid 
and  credible  shape.  If  Herodotus  represents  the  Dorians  and 
Heracleidae  in  the  character  of  confederates  in  the  enterprise 
against  the  Peloponnesus,  the  legend  agrees  with  him  in  the 
main,  inasmuch  as  it  derives  the  claim  upon  which  the  Do- 
rians founded  their  conquests  from  Herakles,  who  did  not 
belong  to  their  race,  but  was  the  progenitor  of  their  kings. 
It  would  not  be  a  thing  in  itself  unprecedented  that  an  exiled 
dynasty  should  unite  itself  with  a  warlike  people  in  order  to 
establish  its  real  or  presumed  title,  and  the  allies  of  that  dy- 
nasty would  find  their  own  advantage  in  the  conquest  they 
achieved.  In  the  history  of  the  Israelites  we  have  an  exam- 
ple of  the  conquest  of  a  country  on  the  ground  of  ancestral 
rights ;  but  this  analogy  places  the  Israelites  in  the  position, 
not  of  the  Dorians,  but  of  the  Heracleidae,  since  they  all  derive 
their  descent  from  the  patriarchs  who  founded  the  rights  in 
question.  In  Greece,  on  the  contrary,  the  principal  fact  is 
that  another  tribe  associates  itself  in  the  undertaking  with 
the  rightful  dynasty.  In  the  old  narratives  of  the  event  we 
encounter  the  diflSculty  that  the  Heracleidae  themselves  are 
regarded  as  Achseans ;  there  are  kings  of  Sparta,  Cleomenes 
for  instance,  who  so  designated  themselves.  I  do  not  know 
whether  we  can  leave  this  circumstance  out  of  account;  it 
clearly  implies  that  the  Dorians  were  taking  in  hand  a  cause 
which  was  not  originally  their  own. 

Again,  this  comparison  with  the  Israelites  throws  a  certain 


126  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

amount  of  light  upon  the  political  character  of  the  event. 
The  Israelites  utterly  annihilated  the  native  inhabitants  in 
the  districts  in  which  they  became  masters,  so  that  their  old 
tribal  constitution  maintained  its  national  character  and  could 
continue  its  development.  The  Dorians,  on  the  other  hand, 
subjugated  but  did  not  extirpate  the  older  population,  whence 
arose  a  constant  opposition  between  the  two  nationalities 
included  within  the  same  frontiers.  The  state  established  by 
the  Dorians  was  composed  of  discordant  elements,  of  victors 
and  vanquished.  The  Dorians  retained  their  old  tribal  con- 
stitution ;  but  the  subject  peoples  everywhere  opposed  them, 
and  had  their  allies  far  and  near.  The  action  and  reaction  of 
these  conflicting  forces  determined  the  course  of  all  subse- 
quent Greek  history. 

Let  us  linger,  however,  for  the  present  over  the  earlier 
stages  of  the  history.  If  we  inquire  into  the  causes  of  the 
success  of  the  Dorians,  we  may  find  the  principal  one  in  their 
strategy,  especially  their  advance  in  close  order  with  out- 
stretched spears.  Before  this  method  of  attack,  employed  by 
better-disciplined  troops,  the  old  tactics  of  the  Achseans,  as 
described  in  Homer,  had  to  give  way.  In  the  Peloponnesus 
three  kingdoms  were  formed  side  by  side.  The  claims  of 
the  three  brothers  descended  from  Herakles,  who  complete 
the  conquest,  were  decided  by  lot.  Argos  fell  to  Temenus, 
tlie  eldest ;  it  was  invaded  from  the  sea,  and  conquered  with 
difficulty.  After  Argos,  Sikyon  was  subjugated  by  Phalkes, 
a  son  of  Temenus,  and  from  the  latter  region  the  dominion 
spread  as  far  as  Phlius.  A  son-in-law  of  Temenus  occupied 
Epidaurus,  with  which,  again,  ^gina  was  combined  by  con- 
quest, so  as  to  form  with  it  a  single  community.  Corinth 
also,  the  Ephyra  of  the  ^olian  house  of  Sisyphus,  was  cap- 
tured, not  from  the  side  of  Argos,  like  the  neighboring  Sik- 
yon, but  by  a  Dorian  roving  about  upon  his  own  account, 
who  originally  received  in  contempt  of  his  claims  only  a  clod 
of  earth. 

Laconia  liad  fallen  to  Eurysthenes  and  Procles,  the  sons  of 
the  second  brother.  It  is  uncertain  whether  it  was  conquered 
after  or  before  the  death  of  their  father.  They  fixed  the  cap- 
ital of  thoir  kingdom  at  Sparta,  not  far  from  the  ancient  seat 


THE  LAKED^MONIANS.  127 

of  the  Pelopidse.  But  it  was  a  long  time  before  they  could 
dispossess  the  Achseans  of  the  hill  country  of  Taygetus,  and 
the  latter  maintained  their  hold  upon  Amyclse.  Cresphontes, 
to  whose  share  Messenia  fell,  and  who  established  himself  at 
Stenyclerus,  set  up  native  chieftains  over  smaller  districts,  in 
which  the  subjects  were  to  be  on  an  equality  with  the  domi- 
nant races;  they  perhaps  acknowledged  dependence  only  on 
the  king.  Ilis  successors  united  themselves  still  more  closel}'- 
with  the  native  inhabitants,  and  in  consequence  were  involved 
in  a  war  with  the  Lakedsemonians,  whose  animosity  is  indi- 
cated by  the  tradition  that  they  bound  themselves  by  an  oath 
not  to  lay  down  the  sword  till  they  had  conquered  Messenia. 

The  legendary  history  of  this  conquest  is  full  of  incident 
and  variety.  We  must  not«forget  that  the  opposition  of  the 
Messenians  is  pronounced  hopeless  at  the  outset,  owing  to  the 
non-completion  of  a  human  sacrifice ;  so  that  here  again  we 
have  this  rite  coming,  and  yet  not  coming,  into  view.  Their 
king  Aristodemus  slays  himself.  Then  Ithome,  the  chief  for- 
tress of  the  country,  is  conquered  by  the  Lakedsemonians, 
and  tlie  land  divided,  after  the  manner  of  Laconia,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  conquerors.  Once  more  Messenia  rises  in  in- 
surrection, under  the  direction  of  a  descendant  of  Cresphon- 
tes; but  the  younger  generation  persist  in  and  carry  to  a 
successful  issue  the  war  whicli  their  grandfathers  commenced. 
Emigrations  in  great  numbers  confirm  the  subjection  of  the 
country  to  Lakedsemon. 

In  these  struggles  Sparta,  whose  destiny  it  was  frequently 
to  take  a  decisive  part  in  the  common  concerns  of  Greece,  de- 
veloped the  form  of  her  constitution.  From  the  very  first 
this  constitution  was  rather  the  work  of  an  aristocratic  com- 
munity, scrupulously  true  to  its  character  even  in  the  minutest 
details,  than  of  the  monarchy  itself.  The  latter,  however,  re- 
signed itself  unconditionall}^  to  the  measures  adopted.  How 
the  result  was  brought  about  is  expressed  in  the  almost  myth- 
ical legend  of  Lycurgus.  The  ruling  families  were  at  feud 
with  one  another  and  w^ith  the  monarchy.  To  these  quarrels 
the  man  privileged  by  divine  authority  put  an  end  by  legisla- 
tion. Lycurgus  exacted  a  promise  that  the  order  established 
by  him  should  be  maintained ;  then  he  retired  to  Delphi, 


128  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

where,  «after  receiving  the  divine  sanction  for  his  work,  he  is 
said  to  have  starved  himself  to  death.  The  legend  symbolizes 
the  inviolability  of  the  constitution,  the  basis  of  the  greatness 
of  Sparta. 

Entirely  different  from  the  policy  of  Lakedsemon  was  that 
pursued  by  Argos.  Her  most  imposing  figure,  at  least  as  far 
as  her  political  attitude  and  aims  are  concerned,  is  Pheidon. 
Having  succeeded  in  possessing  himself  of  the  harbors  of  Ar- 
golis,  he  took  the  liveliest  interest  in  the  commercial  activity 
of  the  epoch.  Through  intercourse  with  the  East,  commerce 
had  now  reached  a  point  at  which  a  trustworthy  scale  for 
measuring  the  value  of  things  was  indispensable.  Pheidon 
adopted  the  weights  and  measures  which  the  Phoenicians, 
herein  followers  of  the  Babylonians,  had  introduced  into  trade. 
The  coined  money  which  came  from  Lydia  he  rivalled  by  a 
native  Greek  coinage,  designed  for  the  commerce  with  AVest- 
ern  Asia.  It  has  been  thought  that  pieces  of  his  money  can 
be  distinguished  among  the  oldest  specimens  of  Greek  coin- 
age ;  the  impression  which  they  bear  suggests  the  Phoenician 
worship  of  Aphrodite.  The  IJerafilid  of  Argos,  who,  whilst 
' '  extending  his  power  by  armed  force,  has  trained  himself  in 
the  arts  of  commerce,  is,  as  far  as  I  know,  the  first  personal- 
ity in  Greek  history  whose  date  can  be  fixed  with  an  approach 
to  exactitude.  He  belongs  to  that  period  of  the  Assyrian 
Empire  when  it  embraced  Cyprus  and  Egypt  and  held  Phoe- 
nicia under  its  sway.  His  death  is  assigned  to  the  year  660 
before  our  era,*  the  time  at  which  Assurbanipal  suppressed 
the  Egyptian  insurrection.  Pheidon  was  master  of  Epidaurus 
and  the  warlike  ^gina,  a  powerful  maritime  state,  where  he 
established  his  mint.  The  circumstance  that  the  Lakedaemo- 
nians  were  engaged  in  the  Messenian  war  contributed  to  ren- 
der him  supreme  in  the  rest  of  the  Peloponnesus.  Ho  inter- 
fered arbitrarily  in  the  Olympian  games,  in  tlie  foundation 
of  which  we  see  an  effort  after  a  sett-lement  between  the  em- 
igrants and  those  native  inhabitants  who  had  retained  their 

♦  I  follow  in  this  the  reading  which  modem  authorities  very  generally 
agree  in  adopting,  in  Pausanias,  vi.  22,  2,  according  to  which  Pheidon  is 
placed,  not  in  the  8th,  but  in  the  28th,  Olympiad ;  cf.  Curtius,  "  Grie- 
chischo  QeBchichtc,*^  6th  ed.  i.  p.  056. 


COLONIES.  129 

independence.  Herodotus  designates  his  behavior  as  an  out- 
rage inflicted  by  him  upon  all  the  Hellenes.  But  even  in  his 
own  lifetime  the  old  order  was  restored  in  the  games.  Phei- 
don  is  said  to  have  been  slain  in  a  hand-to-hand  encounter  in 
the  course  of  a  struggle  with  Corinth.  Although  a  Heraclid 
by  birth,  he  is  exhibited  in  history  as  a  tyrant,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  most  probable  explanation,  is  to  be  traced  to  his 
having  broken  through  the  tribal  relations  hitherto  prevailing 
within  his  dominions. 

A  personage  such  as  Pheidon  leads  the  mind  by  a  natural 
transition  into  a  wider  horizon,  and  to  a  subject  of  universal 
import — the  maritime  development  of  the  Greeks.  This  is  so 
far  connected  with  the  conquest  of  the  Peloponnesus  that  the 
tripartite  Dorians,  as  they  are  called  in  the  Odyssey,  had 
made  themselves  powerful  even  in  Crete,  which  they  had  to 
a  great  extent  made  Dorian.  The  naval  supremacy  {thalasso- 
kratia)  was,  beyond  doubt,  chiefly  in  Dorian  hands.  But 
the  other  Greek  races  also,  who  had  not  been  affected  by  the 
ruin  of  the  Peloponnesus,  and  moved  at  large  in  their  native 
independence,  took  a  very  active  part  in  maritime  expedi- 
tions. 

The  foundation  of  the  colonies  may  be  regarded  as  the  first 
great  enterprise  of  the  Greek  people  beyond  their  own  limits. 
It  is  the  most  remarkable  conquest  ever  made.  The  Phoeni- 
cian colonies  had  rather  a  mercantile  and  religious  interest, 
only  expanding  into  political  importance  in  Carthage.  But 
the  occupation  of  all  the  neighboring  coasts  by  colonies  which 
spread  the  characteristic  life  of  Greece  in  all  directions  was  a 
fact  of  the  highest  political  and  national  significance. 

The  colonies  were  fond  of  tracing  back  their  origin  to 
Apollo  and  the  Delphic  oracle;  but,  in  point  of  fact,  internal 
catastrophes  and  dissensions  gave  the  principal  inducement 
to  emigration.  The  eastern  colonies  had  a  primitive  centre 
of  their  own  in  Delos,  where,  even  in  the  earliest  times,  con- 
gresses from  the  neighboring  islands  had  taken  place ;  thither 
they  made  pilgrimages  with  their  wives  and  children  ;  athletic 
contests  were  established,  and  competitions  in  the  arts  of  the 
Muses.  An  Homeric  hymn  boasts  that  neither  age  nor  death 
seemed  to  have  power  over  the  lonians.     The  festival  was  at- 

9 


130  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

tended  by  representatives  not  only  of  the  twelve  Ionian  towns 
of  Asia  Minor,  but  also  of  Chalkis  and  Athens. 

Tliese  twelve  towns,  the  foundation  of  which  is  traced  to 
the  pressure  of  population  caused  by  the  immigration  of  the 
Dorians  into  the  central  regions  of  Greece,  were  not  entirely 
Ionic,  but  the  Ionic  element  nevertheless  predominated.  The 
manner  in  which  the  immigrants  procured  themselves  wives 
may  be  compared  with  the  rape  of  the  Sabine  women,  but  the 
proceeding  was  a  far  more  violent  one;  not  only  the  hus- 
bands, as  stated  in  the  first  account  given  by  Herodotus,  but 
the  fathers  and  children  of  the  women  were  slain.  According 
to  Herodotus,  the  after-effects  of  this  act  remained  inefface- 
able. The  ^olian  colonies,  attributed  to  Argive  leaders,  and 
established  for  the  most  part  upon  a  narrow  strip  of  land 
around  the  Eleatic  Gulf,  were  also  originally  twelve  in  num- 
ber. But  between  the  Greek  colonists  peace  was  maintained 
as  little  as  between  the  parent  races  in  Greece.  Smyrna  was 
taken  and  permanently  occupied  by  the  lonians.  Yet  the 
members  of  each  tribe  possessed  a  certain  degree  of  unity 
among  themselves.  Half-way  between  Ephesus  and  Miletus, 
near  the  promontory  of  Mycale,  was  the  Panionium,  at  which 
the  Prienians  offered  the  sacrifice.  Miletus  and  Ephesus, 
however,  continued  always  to  be  the  most  active  and  power- 
ful cities ;  the  latter  more  intent  upon  the  acquisition  of  terri- 
tory ;  Miletus,  on  the  other  hand,  one  of  the  greatest  coloniz- 
ing centres  in  history.  No  less  than  seventy -five  distinct 
colonies  are  ascribed  to  her,  for  the  most  part  on  the  coasts 
of  the  Black  Sea,  whose  shores  were  thus  drawn  into  the  cir- 
cle of  Greek  life.  The  Phoenicians  everywhere  withdrew  be^ 
fore  these  influences,  or  else  became  Greek  in  character ;  for  ex- 
ample, Thales,  the  great  Milesian,  was  remotely  of  Phoenician 
origin. 

To  the  ^oHans  Lesbos  became  by  degrees  a  kind  of  me- 
tropolis; Mytilene  is  one  of  the  principal  seats  of  the  older 
Greek  civilization.  It  was  precisely  in  these  regions  that  the 
reminiscences  of  the  Homeric  epoch  were  preserved  in  the 
most  vivid  form  ;  the  Ionian  Chios  is  the  scat  of  the  Home- 
ridsQ,  who  kept  up  the  traditions  of  that  time. 

Important  as  these  colonies  were  to  the  world,  they  cannot 


COLONIES.  131 

sustain  a  comparison  with  the  Dorian  settlements.  The  south- 
western coasts  of  Asia  Minor  were  fringed  with  the  latter. 
Halicarnassus,  "  the  castle  by  the  sea,"  formed,  with  Cnidos, 
Cos,  and  Rhodes,  a  separate  Doric  Amphictyony.  A  series 
of  islands  in  the  southern  part  of  the  ^gsean  Sea  described, 
as  it  were,  a  line  of  Doric  settlements,  among  which  was 
Thera ;  the  Cretan  colonies  on  the  shores  of  Lycia  may  also 
be  regarded  as  Dorian.  The  legend  does  not  omit  to  mention 
the  intervention  of  Crete  when  it  is  necessary  to  account  for 
the  establishment  upon  the  coast  of  Lib3^i  of  a  Dorian  colony, 
Kyrene,  said  to  have  been  sent  from  Thera.  In  another  di- 
rection Megara  made  advances ;  to  this  town  is  assigned  the 
honor  of  having  founded  Chalkedon,  and  of  having  been  the 
first  to  recognize  the  advantages  of  Byzantium  as  a  site  for 
the  empire  of  the  world.  It  would  be  enough  to  inspire  us 
with  admiration  for  the  Dorian  name  could  we  venture  to 
regard  the  colonization  of  the  Propontis,  of  the  southwest  of 
Asia  Minor,  and  of  Libya  as  part  of  one  coherent  plan,  involv- 
ing the  occupation  of  the  most  important  maritime  positions 
in  the  eastern  Mediterranean.  Yet  this  is  not  the  full  ac- 
count; with  these  must  be  combined  the  colonies  which 
spread  the  Greek  name  at  the  same  time  over  Sicily  and 
southern  Italy. 

The  great  metropolis  for  the  establishments  in  the  West 
was  Corinth.  From  hence  Korkyra  and  the  opposite  shores 
of  Illyria  were  colonized  ;  Epidamnus  (Dyrrhachium)  is  a  Co- 
rinthian, Tarentum  a  Spartan,  settlement.  According  to  tra- 
dition it  was  by  an  accident  that  the  Chalkidians  were  driven 
to  the  coast  of  Sicily.  These  traditional  accounts  have  almost 
the  charm  of  voyages  of  discovery :  the  main  fact,  however, 
was  the  settlement  itself.  From  Ortygia,  which  stands  to 
Sicily  in  the  same  relation  as  Mytilene  to  Lesbos,  Syracuse 
was  founded.  Khodes  established  no  settlements  in  the  East, 
but  most  important  ones  in  the  West,  Gela  and  Agrigentum 
being  derived  from  her.  The  reason  of  this,  doubtless,  is  that 
there  were  in  the  East  powerful  kingdoms  in  her  neighbor- 
hood, which  barred  all  farther  progress,  whilst  in  the  West 
the  Phoenicians,  that  is,  the  Carthaginians,  were  contented  to 
make  a  beginning  with  the  coasts  most  conveniently  situated 


132  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

for  their  purposes,  leaving  the  other  parts  of  the  island  to  the 
Greeks,  who  easily  mastered  the  native  inhabitants.  The 
same  was  the  case  in  Libya.  Syracuse  and  Agrigentum  soon 
rose  to  power,  as  did  Kyrene. 

Thus  the  Hellenes  spread  on  both  sides  of  the  mother 
country,  which  is  itself  little  more  than  sea-coast,  towards 
east  and  west.  They  were  very  far  from  constituting  what  is 
called  a  power ;  it  was  not  even  in  their  nature  to  do  so ;  but 
they  formed  an  element  destined  to  produce  the  greatest  effect 
upon  the  world,  which  at  once  made  its  influence  felt  in  all 
directions.  No  doubt  their  warlike  training  by  land  and  sea 
principally  contributed  to  this  result,  the  Dorians  especially 
reaching  an  extraordinary  degree  of  perfection  in  this  respect. 
The  Greeks  generally  showed  themselves  excellent  soldiers ; 
their  equipment  made  them  at  once  superior  to  their  neigh- 
bors. The  bronze  foundries  in  Chalkis  were  reckoned  the 
best  in  the  world,  and  although  they  regarded  their  arms  as 
merchandise,  and  sent  them  far  and  wide  into  foreign  parts, 
the  armor  of  the  Hoplites  was  peculiar  to  the  Greeks.  Their 
superiority  in  naval  warfare  became  no  less  marked.  Tri- 
remes were  invented  at  Corinth,  and  subsequently  served  to 
raise  Samos  into  a  naval  power. 

This  active  and  vigorous  population,  whose  elements  were 
as  infinite  in  their  variety  as  they  were  copious  in  number, 
followed  in  every  situation  an  impulse  of  its  own.  To  at- 
tempt to  pursue  these  varieties  in  all  their  bearings  would 
lead  us  too  far  into  the  explanation  of  local  circumstances. 
But  Greek  life  in  general  displays  certain  characteristics  which 
can  never  cease  to  be  significant.  The  Hellenes  followed  no 
common  political  aim ;  they  cannot  be  compared  with  the 
great  powers  of  which  wo  have  had  occasion  to  speak ;  their 
provinces  and  towns  were  of  insignificant  extent.  But  the 
manner  in  which  these  men,  with  no  extraneous  impulse  or 
example,  lived  together  and  ordered  their  public  affairs  de- 
serves the  most  attentive  consideration.  Independent  and 
self-centred,  they  created,  in  a  constant  struggle  of  citizen 
with  citizen  and  state  with  state,  the  groundwork  of  those 
forms  of  government  which  have  been  established  in  the 
world  at  large.     We  see  monarchy,  aristocracy,  democracy, 


LAKEDiEMON.  133 

rising  side  by  side  and  one  after  another,  the  changes  being 
regulated  in  each  community  by  its  past  experience  and  its 
special  interests  in  the  immediate  present.  These  forms  of 
government  did  not  appear  in  their  normal  simplicity  or  in 
conformity  with  a  distinct  ideal,  but  under  the  modifications 
necessary  to  give  them  vitality.  An  example  of  this  is  Lake- 
daemon.  If  one  of  the  families  of  the  Heracleidse  aimed  at  a 
tyranny,  whilst  another  entered  into  relations  with  the  native 
and  subject  population,  fatal  to  the  prerogatives  of  the  con- 
querors, we  can  understand  that  in  the  third  case,  that  of  the 
Spartan  community,  the  aristocratic  principle  was  maintained 
with  the  greatest  strictness.  Independently  of  this,  the  divis- 
ion of  the  Lakedsemonian  monarchy  between  two  lines,  nei- 
ther of  which  was  to  have  precedence,  was  intended  to  guard 
against  the  repetition  in  Sparta  of  that  which  had  happened 
in  Argos.  Above  all,  the  members  of  the  Gerusia,  in  which 
the  two  kings  had  only  equal  rights  with  the  rest,  held  a  posi- 
tion which  would  have  been  unattainable  to  the  elders  of  the 
Homeric  age. 

But  even  the  Gerusia  was  not  independent.  There  exist- 
ed in  addition  to  it  a  general  assembly,  which,  whilst  very 
aristocratic  as  regards  the  native  and  subject  population,  as- 
sumed a  democratic  aspect  in  contrast  with  the  king  and  the 
elders.  The  internal  life  of  the  Spartan  constitution  depend- 
ed upon  the  relations  between  the  Gerusia  and  the  aristocratic 
demos.     From  the  first,  according  to  a  primitive  Rhetra,*  the 

*  I  purposely  avoid  dealing  with  the  alleged  legislator  Lycurgus,  who 
still  belongs  to  the  realms  of  myth.  As  for  the  legislation  itself,  the  de- 
cision given  at  Delphi,  which  is  extant  in  its  original  form  (Plutarch, 
"Lycurgus,"  c.  G),  is  the  most  important  document;  yet  it  presents, as  is 
Avell  known,  various  difficulties,  so  that  I  feel  myself  bound  to  support  my 
opinion,  where  I  dissent  from  others,  by  reference  to  the  wording  of  the 
oracle.  After  directions  have  been  given  for  holding  the  assembly  at 
appointed  times  and  at  an  appointed  place,  viz.,  within  the  Dorian  settle- 
ment proper,  it  is  further  said  of  the  order  of  procedure  ovnog  el(T<pkpeiv 
Kui  d(piaTa(T9ai,  which  might,  perhaps,  mean  "  propose  a  motion  and  then 
withdraw."  To  the  last  word,  however,  some  assign  the  signification 
"  put  the  question  to  the  vote."  (Cf.  Schneider,  "  Greek  Lexicon,"  s.  v. 
a<p£<TT7]p,  and  Grote,  "  Hist,  of  Greece,"  ii.  462,  n.  2.)  "  Let  the  power,"  it 
is  said,  "rest  with  the  people"  {^a/xt^  de  rdv  Kvpiav  iifiev  kuI  Kf^drog,  accord- 


134  ANCIENT   HELLAS. 

initiative  in  the  assembly  belonged  to  the  king  and  the  Geru- 
sia.  They  had  to  propose  resolutions,  but  to  decide  upon 
them  was  reserved  for  the  aristocratic  commons.  On  the  part 
of  the  kings  an  attempt  was  made  to  limit  this  prerogative  in 
cases  where  its  exercise  would  have  been  inexpedient;  but 
against  this  arose  out  of  the  aristocratic  Demos  the  power  of 
the  Ephors,*  who  had  authority  to  call  together  the  assembly 
and  to  impeach  the  kings  themselves.  On  the  other  hand, 
they  guaranteed  to  the  kings,  in  the  name  of  the  Demos,  the 
possession  of  their  power  in  so  far  as  they  submitted  them- 
selves to  tlie  laws.     Two  of  them  accompanied  the  king  on 


ing  to  the  reading  of  Miiller,  "  Dorians,"  ii.  85,  n.  3).  According  to  the 
constitution,  then,  the  aristocratic  Demos  would  have  had  the  chief 
power,  and  the  principle  of  government  would  be  much  the  same  as  that 
in  Venice.  That  this  is  the  true  explanation  is  shown  also  by  the  statute 
of  the  king  Theopompus  at  a  later  date,  which  provides  an  expedient  for 
the  king  and  senate  in  case  of  the  people  adopting  a  preposterous  policy. 
*  Ottfried  Miiller  traces  the  origin  of  the  power  of  the  Ephors  to  their 
surveillance  over  the  market  and  their  civil  jurisdiction.  But  how  they 
attained  from  this  starting-point  to  the  prerogative  of  impeaching  kings 
and  bringing  them  to  trial  remains  unexplained.  If  the  Ephors  had  the 
right  of  summoning  the  popular  assembly  and  proposing  laws,  this  con- 
tradicts the  i^rinciple  of  the  constitution  expressed  in  the  Rhetra  men- 
tioned above;  and  we  might, perhaps, suppose  that  when  the  king  and 
Gerusia,  in  accordance  with  the  rule  presented  by  Theopompus,  were 
cnroffTaTtipeg,  i.  c.,  declined  to  accept  the  resolutions  of  the  popular  as- 
sembly, the  Ephors  thereupon  came  forward  from  the  midst  of  the  demos 
to  conduct  the  deliberations,  and  thus  obtained  a  power  analogous,  but  op- 
posed, to  that  of  the  kings  and  the  Gerusia.  They  have  an  authority  like 
that  of  the  Council  of  Ten  in  Venice ;  but  their  advance  to  power  took 
the  revewe  direction.  For  in  Venice  the  Council  served  to  keep  the 
sovereign  multitude  in  check,  itself  belonging  to  the  Gerusia  ;  in  Sparta 
the  Ephorate  rose  out  of  the  aristocratic  demos,  and  kept  in  check  the 
monarchy  and  the  principal  families.  For  the  general  relations  of  the 
parties  nothing  is  more  significant  than  the  oath  which,  according  to  the 
account  in  Xcnophon  {AaKiSaifioviutv  TroXmi'a,  c.  15),  the  kings  and  the 
Ephors  took  to  one  another.  In  this  the  Ephors  figure,  not,  properly 
speaking,  as  champions,  but  as  representatives  of  the  commonalty;  the 
king  swears  to  govern  according  to  the  laws  of  the  city,  whilst  for  tho 
city  the  Ephors  swear  that  so  long  they  will  leave  the  privileges  of  the 
king  undisturbed,  ry  Sk  ir^Xci,  ifiiredopKovvros  imivov,  darv^iXiKrov  tt)i^  j^atri- 
\ilav  napi^nv. 


CORINTH.  135 

his  campaigns.  To  make  terms  of  peace  was  the  prerogative 
of  the  Ephors.  The  reins  of  supreme  power  were,  in  fact,  in 
their  hands.  The  Spartan  aristocracy  dominated  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus. But  the  constitution  contained  a  democratic  ele- 
ment w'orking  through  the  Ephors,  by  means  of  which  the 
conduct  of  affairs  miglit  be  concentrated  in  a  succession  of 
powerful  hands. 

Alongside  of  this  system,  the  purely  aristocratic  constitu- 
tions, which  were  without  such  a  centre,  could  nowhere  hold 
their  ground.  The  Bacchiadae  in  Corinth,  two  hundred  in 
number,  witli  a  prytanis  at  their  head,  and  intermarrying  only 
among  themselves,  were  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of 
these  families.  They  were  deprived  of  tlieir  exclusive  su- 
premacy by  Kypselus,  a  man  of  Immble  birth  on  his  father's 
side,  but  connected  witli  the  Bacchiadae  through  his  mother. 
There  is  a  famous  speech  in  which  the  Corinthians  complained 
to  the  Lakedsemonians  of  the  violence  of  the  aristocratic  gov- 
ernment. But  they  wxre  not  entirely  correct,  if  their  re- 
marks were  pointed  also  at  the  constitution  of  Sparta  her- 
self; for  the  Bacchiadae  rather  resembled  the  Gerusia,  which, 
however,  maintained  no  real  authority  as  compared  with 
the  Ephors.  A  combining  element  such  as  ruled  supreme 
in  Sparta  was  wanting  in  other  cities.  Only  in  Thebes  did 
an  exiled  Bacchiad,  Philolaus,  succeed,  by  a  strict  legislation, 
principally  designed  to  guard  against  the  excessive  subdi- 
vision of  the  estates  belonging  to  the  dominant  families,  in 
firmly  establishing  the  aristocratic  ascendency.  He  intro- 
duced an  isonomy  into  the  oligarchy,  and  so  enabled  it  to 
hold  its  ground. 

Elsewhere  the  antagonism  between  the  elements  of  which 
the  cities  and  the  country  districts  were  respectively  com- 
posed was  attended  with  results  which  would  have  been 
intolerable  in  Sparta.  The  tyranny  rested  for  its  support 
upon  the  Achaean  population,  which  set  itself  against  the  ex- 
clusive dominion  of  the  Dorian  families.  Kypselus  and  his 
successor,  Periander,  surrounded  themselves  with  a  body- 
guard, by  the  help  of  which  they  thinned  the  ranks  of  their 
opponents  in  these  families  by  exile  or  execution,  but  kept 
the  commons  in  control  by  taking  care  to  giv^e  them  occupa- 


186  ANCIENT    HELLAS. 

tion.*  The  antagonism  we  have  spoken  of  was  most  pro- 
nounced in  Sik3^on,  where  the  Orthagoridae,  who  were  sprung 
from  the  people,  absolutely  changed  the  tribal  relations  and 
overwhelmed  with  ignominy  the  Dorian  phylfe,  whilst  con- 
tinuing their  hostility  to  Argos,  to  which  they  had  formerly 
been  in  subjection. f  In  Megara,  Theagenes,  who  belonged  to 
the  prrncipal  families,  elevated  himself  to  the  tyranny,  w^itli 
the  assistance  of  the  Achaeans,  to  whom  the  supremacy  of 
those  families  was  intolerable.:]:  In  the  Ionian  cities,  where 
the  families  were  far  from  holding  the  same  strong  posi- 
tion as  in  the  Dorian,  the  tyranny  established  itself  without 
such  assistance.  This  was  especially  the  case  in  the  islands 
and  the  colonies.  There  was  need  of  an  authority  to  direct 
the  powers  of  the  community  to  definite  ends.  There  were 
interests  not  merely  of  the  subjects  as  opposed  to  their  im- 
migrant rulers,  but  of  the  populations  generally.  As  the 
Kypselidse  rose  in  Corinth,  the  metropolis  of  the  colonies 
towards  the  west,  so  in  the  corresponding  eastern  metropo- 
lis, Miletus,  Thrasybulus  raised  himself  from  the  dignity  of 
prytanis  to  that  of  tyrant  ;§  in  Ephesus,  Pythagoras  rose  to 
power,  and  overthrew  the  Basilidse ;  in  Samos,  Polycrates, 


*  Kypselus,  according  to  Herodotus  (v.  93,  6)  and  Aristotle  (*'  Pol."  v. 
9, 23=12  p.  230,4  Bekker),  held  the  tyranny  for  thirty  years,  Periander, 
according  to  Diogenes  Laertius  (i.  98),  for  forty  years  (according  to  the 
manuscript  reading  in  Aristotle, forty-four  years;  but  this  does  not  tally 
with  the  period  assigned  for  the  whole  duration  of  the  tyranny  of  the 
Kypselidaj,  which  rather  requires  forty  years).  Periander  died,  accord- 
ing to  Sosicrates  (ap.  Diogen.  Laert.  i.  §  95),  01. 48, 4=585  B.C.  The  fall 
of  the  BacchiadcD,  according  to  this,  must  have  happened  seventy  years 
before,  01.  31,  2=G55  B.C.  Eusebius  places  it  in  01.  30,  2=659-8  B.C., 
and  O.  Mailer,  "  Dorier,"!.  p.  161,  n.  9,  adopts  this  date. 

t  Aristotle  ("  Pol."  v.  12=9, 21)  gives  to  the  dynasty  of  Orthagoras  a 
duration  of  a  hundred  years,  and  observes  role  apxofikvotc  IxpCjvro  fxerpitoc 
xal  ToWd  roTc  vofioic  ISovXtvov  (cf.  Curtius,  "  Peloponnesos,"  ii.  p.  485). 
0.  Mttller  ("  Dorians,"  i.  p.  164,  n.  1)  places  the  tyranny  of  the  Orthagoridaj 
between  01.2C  and  61=076-576  B.C. 

t  The  daughter  of  Theagenes  married  Kylon  of  Athens  (Thuc.  i.  126), 
who  in  Ol.  85=640  B.C.,  won  the  prize  at  Olympia  in  the  "diaulus" 
(double  course). 

§  Thrasybulus  was  a  contemporary  of  Pisistratus  (Herod,  i.  20). 


SOLON.  137 

who  was  master  also  of  the  Kyklades,  and  of  whom  it  is  re- 
corded that  he  confiscated  the  property  of  the  citizens  and 
then  made  them  a  present  of  it  again.  By  concentrating  the 
forces  of  their  several  communities  the  tyrants  obtained  the 
means  of  surrounding  themselves  with  a  certain  splendor,  and 
above  all  of  liberally  encouraging  poetry  and  art.  To  these 
Polycrates  opened  liis  citadel,  and  in  it  we  find  Anacreon 
and  Ibycus  ;*  Kypselus  dedicated  a  famous  statue  to  Zeus,  at 
Olympia.  The  school  of  art  at  Sikyon  was  without  a  rival, 
and  at  the  court  of  Periander  were  gathered  the  seven  sages 
— men  in  whom  a  distinguished  political  position  was  com- 
bined with  the  prudential  wisdom  derived  from  the  experi- 
ence of  life.  This  is  the  epoch  of  the  legislator  of  Athens, 
Solon,  who  more  than  the  rest  has  attracted  to  himself  the 
notice  of  posterity.  He  is  the  founder  of  the  Athenian 
democracy. 

The  tradition  concerning  Solon  has  many  fabulous  traits — 
for  instance,  his  appearance  in  the  market-place  with  the  de- 
meanor of  a  man  not  quite  in  his  senses,  a  story  which 
reminds  us  of  the  legend  of  Brutus.  In  a  very  characteristic 
way  the  account  which  makes  Lycurgus,  on  setting  out  upon 
his  travels,  bind  the  Lakedaemonians  to  the  observance  of  his 
laws,  coincides  with  the  tradition  that  Solon  laid  a  similar 
obligation  upon  the  Athenians,  though  only  for  ten  years. 
There  is  ample  justification  for  the  doubts  cast  upon  the 
narrative  of  the  meeting  between  Solon  and  the  last  king  of 
Lydia.  In  the  main,  however,  the  details  we  possess  regard- 
ing Solon  rest  upon  a  far  more  solid  foundation  than  those 
which  concern  Lycurgus.  The  legislation  ascribed  to  him 
did,  in  fact,  proceed  from  him.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  in 
keeping  with  the  contrasts  generally  prevailing  in  the  Greek 
cities,  whilst  on  the  other  it  shows  its  author  to  have  been  a 
man  of  much  experience  and  knowledge  of  the  world.  Its 
foundations  are  laid  in  the  condition  and  circumstances  of 
Attica  itself. 

*  Polycrates  himself  wrote  poetry,  and  had  a  place  among  the  elegiac 
poets,  amongst  whom  also  Pittacus  is  reckoned ;  a  scolion  by  the  latter 
is  still  extant  (Beruhardy,  "  Griechische  Literaturgeschichte,  ii.  357). 


138  ANCIENT   HELLAS. 

The  balance  of  opinion  in  ancient  times  inclined  to  the 
view  that  Attica  is  to  be  counted  among  the  Ionian  districts. 
The  Attic  tribes,  who  had  gathered  together  in  the  capital, 
were  distinguished  in  the  same  way  as  the  Ionian,  and  bore 
the  same  appellations.  This  fact  seems  to  point  to  the  ex- 
emption of  the  Attic  population  from  intermixture,  and  its 
purport  is  confirmed  by  the  oldest  tradition,  which  goes  back 
to  a  period  when  there  was  a  danger  of  such  intermixture 
taking  place  through  the  immigration  of  the  lieracleidae  and 
the  Dorians.  This  tradition  attributes  tlie  deliverance  of  the 
country  to  the  self-devotion  of  the  last  king,  affirming  that  no 
one  after  this  was  counted  worthy  to  succeed  him.  It  is  in 
accordance  with  the  general  experience  of  history  that  the 
autonomy  of  the  native  populations,  suppressed  over  a  wide 
range  of  country  by  the  Heracleidae,  should  have  asserted 
itself  with  all  the  greater  vigor  in  another  quarter.  This 
movement  did  not  immediately  react  upon  the  constitution  of 
Athens.  There  also  great  families  assumed  the  lead,  and  un- 
der one  form  or  another  exercised  dominion  and  administered 
justice.  The  Areopagus,  a  primeval  tribunal,  hallowed  by 
mythic  associations,  where  trials  were  held  under  primitive 
forms,  secured  to  them  a  privileged  authority  under  the 
sanction  of  religion.  This  tribunal,  however,  did  not  inter- 
fere with  the  ancestral  claims  of  families  and  phratrice.  Phra- 
triae  were  associations  of  a  sacred  character,  in  which  one 
family  was,  as  it  were,  security  for  the  existence  of  the  other. 
The  four  tribes  were  connected  by  direct  ties  with  the  gods; 
and  this  was,  in  fact,  the  ground  of  their  claim  to  equal  priv- 
ileges.* 

In  Athens,  however,  as  in  most  other  cities,  there  ensued  a 
schism  between  the  powerful  families.     IIow    violent  this 

*  In  one  of  the  earliest  plays  of  Euripides,  placed  by  Boekh  ("  Graec. 
Trag.  principes,"  p.  191)  in  01. 87, 4,  and  by  Gottfried  Hermann  at  any  rate 
before  01.  89,  Ion  himself  appears  as  a  son  of  Apollo  by  Creusa,  who  gave 
birth  to  him  secretly.  From  Ion  is  descended  Teleon ;  from  him  como 
also  tlio  Hopletes,  Argadeis,  and  ^gikoreis.  Tlie  last-named  occupy  the 
Kyklades  and  the  adjacent  continents  (Ion,  1580  sq.).  It  must,  of  course, 
be  observed  that  this  view  was  almost  contemporary  with  that  of  Herod- 
otus.   XuthuR  is  only  the  presumptive  father  of  Ion. 


ATHENS.  139 

scliism  was  may  be  inferred  from  tliat  law  of  Draco  which 
knows  but  one  punishment,  that  of  death,  for  all  transgres- 
sions alike,*  for  in  a  general  disunion  the  smallest  crime  is 
as  dangerous  as  the  greatest.  In  Attica,  as  elsewhere,  chiefs 
of  parties  arose,  who  aimed  at  autocratic  power.  One  of  the 
principal  Eupatridae,  Kylon,  on  one  occasion  took  possession 
of  the  Acropolis.  He  was  opposed  by  the  family  of  the 
AlcmaeonidaB,  but  in  enticing  away  Kylon's  supporters  from 
the  sacred  asylum  in  which  they  had  taken  refuge  they 
outraged  the  religion  of  the  country,  or,  in  the  language  of 
pure  human  feeling,  that  higher  law  upon  which  all  else  was 
based,  and  which  held  the  inhabitants  together.  That  the 
soil  on  which  they  stood  might  be  desecrated  by  certain  acts 
was  a  dominant  idea  among  the  nations  of  antiquity.  The 
family  of  the  Alcmaeonidae,  which  had  incurred  the  guilt  of 
such  an  act,  was  regarded  with  universal  abhorrence,  and  was 
banished ;  but  the  land  itself  needed  again  to  make  its  peace 
with  the  gods.  We  have  once  more  a  reference  to  Crete, 
whence  the  Delphic  oracle  was  derived.  One  of  the  Cretan 
Kuretes,  famed  for  his  acquaintance  with  the  secrets  of  the 
gods,  was  invited  to  Attica,  to  carry  out  the  sacred  forms  of  a 
lustration,  and  to  assure  the  country  of  its  restoration  to  di- 
vine favor. 

By  occurrences  of  this  kind  the  authority  of  the  principal 
families  could  not  but  be  shaken  to  its  very  foundations.  One 
of  these  had  attempted  to  destroy  the  general  freedom,  an- 
other had  offended  the  gods.  Nevertheless,  after  the  banish- 
ment of  the  Alcmseonidae  the  rest  of  the  Eupatridae  main- 
tained themselves  in  full  dignity.  They  cannot  be  compared 
with  the  Lakedsemonian  aristocracy,  who  regarded  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  country  as  their  subjects.  The  inhabitants  of 
Attica  were  on  a  footing  of  equality  in  respect  of  hereditary 
rights,  yet  it  seemed  that  a  condition  of  dependence  might 
be  brought  about  here,  as  in  Lakedsemon.  The  opportunity 
was  presented  in  the  assertion,  not  of  public,  but  of  individual 
claims ;  for,  according  to  existing  laws  and  usages,  debt,  when 

*  The  archonship  of  Draco  falls,  according  to  Eusebius  (in  the  Arme- 
nian translation),  in  01. 40=620  B.C. 


140  ANCIENT   HELLAS. 

it  was  not  possible  to  discharge  it  by  payment,  led  imme- 
diately to  bondage  and  servitude.  The  general  growth  of 
commerce  involved  the  consequence  that  Athenian  citizens 
could  be  sold  into  slavery.  If  this  had  been  allowed  to  go 
on,  the  subjection  of  the  lower  classes  to  the  higher  would 
have  become  tlie  rule,  and  the  country  would  have  lost  the 
chief  source  of  its  strength.  Already  the  state  itself  had 
fallen  so  low  that  it  had  allowed  itself  to  be  deprived  of 
Salamis,  which  commands  the  harbor  of  Athens. 

In  the  midst  of  this  confusion,  whilst  law  and  religion  were 
thus  disorganized,  and  political  weakness  and  incapacity  were 
everywhere  the  rule,  Solon  appeared  upon  the  scene.  He 
belonged  to  the  Eupatridie,  and  traced  his  pedigree  to  Codrus 
himself.  But  the  prosperity  of  his  country  weighed  more 
with  him  than  the  claims  of  rank.  If  we  could  venture,  in 
treating  of  remote  antiquity,  to  speak  of  motives  which  are 
intelligible  to  every  one,  we  should  attribute  the  legislation  of 
Solon  to  the  feeling  which  seizes  upon  every  patriot  when  he 
sees  his  native  land  in  a  perilous  condition,  out  of  which  some 
way  of  escape  must  be  found  unless  everything  is  to  go  to 
ruin.  To  him  is  ascribed  that  purification  of  the  land  which 
was,  so  to  speak,  a  treaty  of  peace  with  its  gods  ;  and  also  the 
recovery  of  Salamis,  without  which  the  Peiraeus  could  never 
be  of  any  real  use.  Solon  himself  was  active  in  mercantile 
affairs ;  and  this  occupation  must  of  itself  have  convinced 
him  how  infinitely  important  it  was  for  Attica  to  have  the 
free  use  of  her  coasts  and  harbors,  and  to  what  a  position  she 
might  aspire  by  employing  the  natural  advantages  of  her  sit- 
uation. To  this  end,  however,  the  main  essential  was  some 
arrangement  for  securing  the  freedom  of  her  population.  In 
ancient  times  all  other  distinctions  sink  into  insignificance 
compared  with  that  between  freeborn  men  and  slaves,  and  no 
circumstance  has  been  more  productive  of  civil  disturbance 
than  the  attempt  of  the  wealthy  citizens  to  depress  into  the 
class  of  bondsmen  the  poorer  members  of  the  community,  by 
asserting  the  legal  rights  of  creditorship.  Every  debtor  was 
accustomed  to  pledge  his  person  for  the  discharge  of  the  debt, 
and  was  compelled,  himself  and  his  family,  to  do  service  in 
lieu  of  payment.    Legal  justice  thus  became  the  greatest 


SOLON.  141 

political  injustice.  Those  who  were  incapable  of  paj^ment 
were  even  sold  into  foreign  servitude.  Never  had  the  traffic 
in  slaves,  the  focus  of  which  was  in  Tj^re,*  received  such  an 
impulse  as  at  this  epoch.  The  merchants  followed  armies 
into  the  field,  and  the  prisoners  made  were  at  once  sold  as 
slaves,  along  with  those  who  had  been  deprived  of  freedom 
for  civil  reasons.  We  may  conceive  the  feelings  of  an 
Athenian  of  rank  at  seeing,  among  the  slaves  sold,  his  own 
countrymen,  who  a  short  time  ago  had  lived  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  freedom.  This  was  the  first  evil  which  Solon,  when 
authority  was  given  him  by  universal  consent,  undertook  to 
remove.f  He  secured  his  countrymen  from  ever  again  be- 
ing treated  as  chattels.  No  native  Athenian  was  henceforth 
to  be  condemned  to  bondage,  or  sold  into  foreign  parts,  on 
account  of  debt.  Those  who  had  suffered  the  latter  fate 
returned  again  to  Attica.  Many  had  been  so  long  abroad, 
passing  from  hand  to  hand,  that  they  had  forgotten  their 
native  dialect.  This  may,  perhaps,  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
first  steps  in  history  towards  the  recognition  of  human  dig- 
nity, though  its  action  was  limited  only  to  the  country  it  con- 
cerned. 

In  other  respects  also  monetary  relations  had  operated  in 
Attica  w^ith  distracting  results.  The  oppressive  encumbrances 
npon  real  property  could  never  be  got  rid  of  if  private  con- 
tracts of  long  standing  were  to  be  carried  out  to  the  letter. 
We  shall  not  go  far  wrong  in  ascribing  to  the  personal  interest 
which  Solon  took  in  the  general  commerce  of  the  world  the 
fact  that  he  did  not  maintain  the  standard  of  money  with 
rigorous  adherence  to  its  current  value  in  Attica.  He  it  was 
who,  in  the  coinage  designed  to  form  an  Occidental  or  Greek 
silver  standard,  corresponding  to  the  Oriental  standard  of  gold, 
debased  the  substance  of  the  silver  mina,  and  so  substituted  a 
nominal  for  its  former  real  value.  The  measure  was  facilita- 
ted by  the  circumstance  that  the  influx  of  gold  was  upon  the 


*  The  prophet  Ezekiel  makes  it  a  reproach  to  the  Greeks  that  they 
imported  slaves  into  Tyre. 

t  The  archonship  of  Solon  falls  in  01.  46,  3=594  B.C.  (Clinton,  "  Fasti 
Hell."  ii.  298). 


142  ANCIENT   HELLAS. 

increase,  it  being  a  well-known  fact  that,  even  in  ancient  times, 
the  fluctuations  in  the  relative  value  of  gold  and  silver  de- 
pended upon  such  causes.  The  new  silver  mina  was  made 
equal  in  value  to  the  old,  and  the  loans  which  had  been  made 
upon  the  old  footing  could  be  repaid  upon  the  new.  Political 
necessity  outweighed  private  interests  and  claims.  But  the 
legislator,  being  thoroughly  conversant  with  matters  of  busi- 
ness, insisted  that  loans  upon  interest  should  continue  to  be 
allowed,  whereas  elsewhere  many  objections  were  raised  to 
the  practice  of  usury.  We  find  ourselves  here  in  a  region 
where  we  have  no  trustworthy  landmarks  of  tradition  to  de- 
pend upon.  But  one  thing  is  clear,  that  through  Solon's 
remediary  measures  the  social  relations  with  reference  to  re- 
ligion, human  freedom,  and  civil  intercourse  underwent  a 
transformation.  With  this  was  combined  that  political  revo- 
lution by  which  Solon  founded  a  great  commonwealth. 

An  innovation  of  great  extent  and  importance  was  the  so- 
called  timocracy,  according  to  which  a  certain  amount  of 
means  was  a  necessary  qualification  for  a  share  in  the  offices 
of  state.  The  timocracy  broke  through  the  aristocratic  insti- 
tutions hitherto  established,  inasmuch  as  it  limited  the  privi- 
leges of  birth  by  exacting  a  census.  This  was  fixed,  accord- 
ing to  ancient  traditional  usage,  by  the  amount  of  produce 
yielded  by  the  land  held  in  possession.  Three  classes  were 
established,  with  definite  privileges  and  duties.  Even  the 
third,  however,  was  so  fixed  that  there  must  have  been  many 
Eupatridae  who  failed  to  reach  its  standard,  and  thus  were  ex- 
cluded from  the  most  important  affairs  of  state.  There  was 
no  question  of  abrogating  the  privileges  hitherto  attached  to 
ownership,  but  only  of  an  assessment,  involving  at  the  same 
time  a  confirmation  of  the  title.  Indeed,  it  is  inconceivable 
that  a  dominant  and  still  powerful  nobility  would  have  ac- 
cepted the  monetary  innovations  introduced  by  Solon,  if  it 
had  not  been  indemnified,  so  to  speak,  in  some  other  way.  It 
was  only  the  three  liigher  classes  which  paid  direct  taxes  and 
wore  capable  of  being  elected  to  offices.  At  the  first  glance 
we  see  in  this  a  contrast  to  the  tendencies  which  everywhere 
else  prevailed. 

Tlicrc  was  a  general  bias  in  the  Greek  states  and  cities 


SOLON.  143 

towards  restraining  the  oligarchies,  or  rather  towards  depriv- 
ing them  of  decisive  control  over  public  affairs.  It  was  on 
this  tendency  that  tyranny  depended.  It  based  its  power 
upon  the  elevation  of  the  lower  strata  of  the  population,  but 
the  representation  which  it  gave  thein  was  violent  and  transi- 
tory. Solon  sought  to  utilize  the  motive  force  by  which 
tyranny  was  supported,  by  conceding  to  those  classes  which 
were  excluded  from  the  direct  tenure  of  office  a  twofold  right 
of  great  importance,  only  on  the  ground  that  their  means  did 
not  give  an  adequate  voucher  for  its  satisfactory  exercise. 
This  was  the  right  of  electing  to  offices,  and  of  examining,  on 
the  expiration  of  each  term,  into  the  way  in  which  the  duties 
of  the  office  had  been  discharged.  The  suffrage  was  by  no 
means  universal ;  it  depended  in  all  cases  upon  the  legal  as- 
sessments, and  since  the  number  of  those  entitled  and  com- 
petent to  hold  the  highest  offices,  upon  which  important 
issues  turned,  could  not  be  very  considerable,  the  right  of 
voting  must  chiefly  have  been  exercised  in  the  rejection  of 
less  popular  or  estimable  candidates.  The  investigation  made 
the  highest  magistrates  responsible  to  the  assembly  of  the 
people;  the  archons  themselves  might  be  excluded  from  the 
honor  of  sitting  in  the  Areopagus.  The  leading  families  re- 
tained their  rank  and  claims,  but  they  depended,  for  the 
attainment  of  their  chief  ambition — the  exercise,  namely,  of 
the  supreme  power — upon  the  judgment  of  the  community 
at  large.  It  is  in  this  that  Solon's  chief  achievement  consists; 
the  classes  whose  members  were  individually  excluded  from 
the  administration  of  state  affairs  received  in  their  collective 
capacity  an  authority  which  implied  the  possession  of  the 
supreme  power — an  authority  such  as  only  the  tj^ranny  could 
exercise  elsewhere.  The  constitution  of  Solon  has  the  char- 
acter of  a  reconciliation.  Aristotle,  to  whom  we  are  indebted 
for  our  knowledge  of  both  these  concessions,  pronounces  them 
to  have  been  necessary  and  indispensable,  alleging  that  with- 
out them  the  Demos  would  have  been  forced  into  a  hostile 
attitude.*     Solon  further  provided  for  the  interests  of  the 

*  Arist.  "  Pol."  ii.  C.  12,  p.  1274,  a.  15  :  2o\wi/  ye  eoiKe  T-qv  avayKaiorarriv 
dirodidovai  ry  ^ij/iy  Svvafiiv,  to  tolq  apx«C  aipeXcOai  Kai  evOvveiv,  fxtidk  yap  rovrov 


144  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

Demos  by  giving  the  demotse  a  jurisdiction  of  their  own, 
to  guard  against  unjust  interference  in  their  affairs.*  It 
was  owing  to  the  existence  of  two  distinct  elements  in  the 
community  that  Solon  established  two  distinct  senates.  One 
of  these,  the  Areopagus,  was  a  body  of  aristocratic  tendencies, 
consisting  of  those  who  had  served  the  office  of  archon :  its 
function  ^vas  to  maintain  the  laws  in  their  integrity.  The 
other,  the  Council  of  the  Four  Hundred,  was  a  probouleutic 
senate,  which  had  the  prerogative  of  settling  for  the  assembly 
of  the  people  the  subjects  on  which  they  were  to  deliberate, 
and  of  watching  over  the  execution  of  their  decrees.  The 
four  hundred  members  were  selected  from  the  four  tribes  in 
equal  proportions.  Solon  is  reported  to  have  said  that  the 
security  of  the  republic  was  attained  by  these  two  councils, 
as  a  ship  is  made  fast  by  two  strong  anchors  in  the  midst  of 
a  tossing  sea. 

The  poetical  remains  which  passed  among  the  ancients 
under  Solon's  name  display  not  so  much  depth  or  majesty  of 
thought  as  knowledge  of  what  is  good  and  desirable  in  the 
relations  of  human  life,  together  with  a  genuine  feeling  for 
the  things  of  religion.  His  proverb  "  Nothing  in  excess" 
indicates  his  character.  He  was  a  man  who  knew  exactly 
what  the  time  has  a  right  to  call  for,  and  who  utilized  exist- 
ing complications  to  bring  about  the  needful  changes.  It  is 
impossible  adequately  to  express  what  he  was  to  the  people  of 
Athens,  and  what  services  he  rendered  them.  That  removal 
of  their  pecuniary  burdens,  the  seisachtheia,,  made  life  for  the 
first  time  endurable  to  the  liumbler  classes.     Solon  cannot  be 


KvptoQ  ujv  6  dfjfiOQ  SovXog  &v  i'lrj  rat  -TroXe^iog.  Because  of  a  trifling  oversight 
—  if  it  is  one  —  to  be  found  in  this  chapter  (cf.  Bcickh, "  Die  Staatsliaus- 
haltung  der  Athener,"ii.  p.  81),  wo  cannot  venture  to  conclude  that  it  is 
not  genuine. 

•Demetrius  Phalereus  (in  a  scholium  to  the  "Clouds"  of  Aristophanes 
— Mtiller, "  Fragm.  Hist.  Gitcc."  ii.  p.  303,  fragm.  8),  Kai  dtjfidpxovQ  ol  mpi 
^6\u>va  KaBiaravTO  Iv  TroXXy  oirovSy,  'iva  ol  kutA  itjfiov  diiuftrt  Kai  Xafxfiavutfft 
rd  iixaia  -irap  axx»/\wv.  Even  though  the  word  demarch,  which  at  a  later 
time  has  rather  reference  to  political  administration,  may  be  here  mis- 
applied, we  should  have  to  suppose  that  ^draorai  xarA  liifiovsyfcTC  intended 
(cf.  SchOmann, "  Qricchiscbe  AltcrthUmer/'  i.  p.  49). 


SOLON.  145 

said  to  have  introduced  democracy,  but,  in  making  the  share 
of  the  upper  classes  in  the  government  dependent  upon  the 
good  pleasure  of  the  community  at  large,  he  laid  its  founda- 
tions. The  people  were  invested  by  him  with  attributes  which 
they  afterwards  endeavored  to  extend.  The  democratic  ele- 
ment first  presents  itself  as  indispensable  in  the  domestic  af- 
fairs of  the  commonwealth  ;  it  was  designed  to  counterbalance 
the  power  of  the  oligarchy.  We  have  already  shown  that  in 
Sparta  the  whole  substance  of  power  resided  in  the  aristo- 
cratic assembly,  and  it  is  noticeable  that  Solon  in  one  of  his 
most  famous  verses  declares  that  he  has  granted  the  people 
only  just  so  much  power  as  was  necessary.  But  it  was  little 
likely  that  the  Athenian  Demos  would  content  itself  with  this 
limited  power,  and  the  whole  succeeding  period  bears  witness 
to  its  efforts  to  expand  and  improve  that  power  till  it  became 
the  supreme  authority  in  the  state. 

In  times  of  civil  discord,  the  first  thing  needful  in  the  mind 
of  a  legislator  is  to  restore  the  disturbed  equilibrium  between 
the  different  authorities  and  classes  of  society.  It  was  this 
which  Solon  intended  to  do  for  Athens,  and  in  a  great  measure 
carried  out.  This  constitutes  his  principal  merit.  But  the 
revolution  he  effected  was  not  a  native  and  independent  prod- 
uct of  the  soil ;  the  general  condition  of  the  world  reacted 
upon  Athens,  and  made  the  change  at  once  possible  and 
salutary.  If  we  are  not  mistaken,  this  is  the  first  time  that 
the  power  of  money  made  itself  felt  in  the  internal  affairs  of 
an  important  community.  It  was  the  general  intercourse  of 
commerce  which  supplied  Solon  with  the  means  of  effecting 
his  principal  regulations. 

Another  vital  step  was  the  distinction  established  between 
the  human  being  and  chattels  or  money.  Money  becomes 
what  it  ought  to  be,  a  standard  for  the  balance  of  political 
claims.  The  poorer  classes  were  not  only  benefited  by  being 
delivered  from  the  danger  of  being  expelled  from  house  and 
home  or  sold  as  slaves ;  by  the  laws  of  Solon  they  were  at 
the  same  time  firmly  attached  to  the  community,  which 
from  this  time  forth  included  them  as  members  inseparable 
from  it. 

It  is  a  subject  for  lasting  contemplation  that  this  was 

10 


146  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

effected  by  a  legislator  in  whose  mind  views  of  the  widest 
range  were  fused  with  the  sentiments  of  patriotism.  Solon 
cannot  be  compared  with  Moses,  who  extricated  a  people  from 
the  influence  of  conceptions  which  had  become  a  part  of  their 
very  life,  and,  being  at  once  captain,  prophet,  and  legislator, 
organized  them  in  submission  to  the  idea  of  a  universal  relig- 
ion of  relentless  severity,  such  as  completely  to  transform  the 
nation  and  to  pave  the  way  to  a  great  conquest.  Solon  made 
no  claim  to  a  divine  mission,  still  less  did  he  entertain  the 
design  of  effecting  a  great  conquest ;  his  ambition  limited 
itself  to  winning  back  a  neighboring  island,  which  had  an- 
ciently belonged  to  the  country,  and  in  the  next  place  to 
uniting  the  different  classes  of  the  inhabitants,  by  the  accom- 
modation of  their  disputes,  into  an  independent  and  powerful 
commonwealth.  Moses  could  only  be  represented  in  symbol ; 
an  ancient  bust  represents  Solon  as  a  prosperous,  sagacious, 
and  vigorous  man ;  his  was  a  popular  nature,  dexterous  and 
practical,  his  mind  a  storehouse  of  prudent  thoughts.  The 
two  legislators  have  one  point  of  contact :  the  idea  of  slavery 
is  repugnant  to  them  both ;  otherwise  they  are  fundamentally 
distinct. 

That  Solon's  creation  would  prove  durable  appeared  doubt- 
ful from  the  very  first  moment.  The  equilibrium,  upon  which 
his  constitution  depended,  could  not  maintain  itself  in  the 
struggle  of  the  conflicting  elements.  Tyranny  and  oligarchy 
had  their  centre  of  gravity  in  themselves.  The  constitution 
of  Solon  lacked  such  a  centre.  Solon  himself  lived  long 
enougli  to  see  the  order  which  he  established  serve  as  the 
basis  of  tlie  tyranny  which  he  wished  to  avoid  ;  it  was  the 
Four  Hundred  themselves  who  lent  a  hand  to  the  change. 
The  radical  cause  of  failure  was  that  the  democratic  element 
was  too  feebly  constituted  to  control  or  to  repress  the  violence 
of  the  families.  To  elevate  the  democracy  into  a  true  power 
in  the  state  other  events  were  necessary,  which  not  only 
rendered  possible,  but  actually  brought  about,  its  further  de- 
velopment. 

The  conflicts  of  the  principal  families,  hushed  for  a  moment, 
were  revived  under  the  eyes  of  Solon  himself  with  redoubled 
violence.  The  Alcmteonidce  were  recalled,  and  gatliercd  around 


PEISISTRATUS.  147 

them  a  party  consisting  mainly  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  sea- 
coast,  who,  favored  by  trade,  had  the  money  in  their  hands  ;  the 
genuine  aristocrats,  described  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  plains, 
who  were  in  possession  of  the  fruitful  soil,  were  in  perpetual 
antagonism  to  the  Alcmseonidse ;  and,  whilst  these  two  parties 
were  bickering,  a  third  was  formed  from  the  inhabitants  of 
the  mountain  districts,  inferior  to  the  two  others  in  wealth, 
but  of  superior  weight  to  either  in  the  popular  assemblies. 
At  its  head  stood  Feisistratus,  a  man  distinguished  by  war- 
like exploits,  and  at  an  earlier  date  a  friend  of  Solon.  It  was 
because  his  adherents  did  not  feel  themselves  strong  enough 
to  protect  their  lefider  that  they  were  induced  to  vote  him  a 
body-guard  chosen  from  their  own  ranks.  It  was  the  Council 
of  the  Four  Hundred  itself  which  came  to  this  resolution ; 
and  the  assembly  of  the  people  confirmed  it,  no  doubt  be- 
cause the  security  of  the  poorer  classes  called  for  a  powerful 
head  of  the  state.*  As  soon,  however,  as  the  first  two  parties 
combined,  the  third  was  at  a  disadvantage,  so  that  after  some 
time  sentence  of  banishment  was  passed  upon  Feisistratus. 
He  did  not  return  until  he  had  pledged  himself  to  a  family 
union  with  the  Alcmgeonidae.  He  was  already  in  middle  age, 
and  had  children ;  he  had  no  serious  intention  of  founding  a 
new  family  by  a  union  with  the  guilt -stained  house  of  the 
Alcmseonidee,  although  such  a  union  would  perhaps  have  put 
him  in  a  position  to  obtain  absolute  supremacy;  and  he  was 
banished  once  more.  But  in  this  second  exile  he  made  every 
preparation  for  securing  his  return. 

One  of  the  most  important  facts  which  mark  this  epoch  is 
the  first  employment  of  mercenary  troops.  Feisistratus,  who 
cultivated  close  relations  with  the  despots  of  the  neighboring 
islands,  especially  with  Lygdamus  of  Naxos,  found  means  to 
gather  around  him  a  troop  of  brave  mercenaries,  with  whom, 
and  with  the  support  of  his  old  adherents,  he  then  invaded 
Attica.     His  opponents  made  but  a  feeble  resistance,  and  he 


*  Whether  this  step  was  really  taken  in  consequence  of  a  wound  inflicted, 
or  from  a  more  or  less  well-founded  anxiety  for  the  life  of  Feisistratus,  is 
unimportant.  In  the  case  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  there  was  no  need  for 
such  a  stratagem  to  obtain  for  him  the  protection  of  a  similar  guard. 


148  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

became  without  much  trouble  master  both  of  the  city  and  of 
the  country.  He  thus  attained  to  power;  it  is  true,  with  the 
approbation  of  the  people,  but  nevertheless  by  armed  force. 
The  people  were  disarmed,  and  had  other  and  peaceful  occu- 
pations assigned  to  them.  Peisistratus  would  as  little  suffer 
them  to  be  without  occupation  as  to  bear  arms.  It  was  upon 
Thracian  mercenaries  that  his  despotic  government  rested 
mainly  for  its  support.  The  constitution  established  by  Solon 
he  had  no  intention  of  disturbing,  but  its  character  was  such 
as  to  leave  it  possible  for  a  man  of  superior  gifts  to  take  the 
reins  of  government  and  control  it  at  his  pleasure.  In  this 
position  Peisistratus  labored  most  profitably  for  a  series  of 
years  to  enhance  the  power  of  Athens,*  and  that  with  de- 
signs arid  in  a  spirit  suggested  by  the  general  situation  of  the 
Hellenes. 

The  Persians  were  not  only  lords  of  Asia  Minor  and  mas- 
ters of  the  Ionian  colonies  settled  on  those  coasts,  but  were 
stretching  out  their  hands  towards  the  islands.  Peisistratus 
did  his  best  to  hinder  the  growth  of  this  new  empire  of  the 
world.  He  united  to  Athens  by  the  closest  bond  the  island 
of  Delos,  whose  relations  with  Asia  Minor  were  now  severed 
by  the  Persians.  He  won  a  foothold  in  the  colonial  district 
by  obtaining  possession  of  Sigeum,  a  town  on  a  point  of  land 
in  the  Hellespont.  His  view,  that  land  occupied  by  the  Greeks 
did  not  belong  only  to  the  tribe  which  was  its  immediate 
owner,  was  very  important.  It  was  clear,  he  maintained  from 
Homer,  that  the  original  occupation  was  the  work  of  all  the 
Hellenes.  Peisistratus  won  for  himself  an  imperishable  title 
to  gratitude  by  making  a  collection  of  the  Homeric  poems ; 
it  is  probable  that  in  undertaking  it  he  acted  on  political  as 
well  as  other  motives.  It  certainly  implied  an  opposition  to 
the  advance  of  Oriental  culture,  which  was  spreading  like  a 
flood  over  the  whole  of  Greece.  The  means  by  which  Peisis- 
tratus possessed  Iiimself  of  the  ascendency  in  Athens  cannot 
be  approved;  his  success  was  the  consequence  of  divisions 

*  Aristotle  says  that  out  of  a  period  of  tbirty-tbreo  years  bo  held  the 
tyranny  seventeen ;  according  to  Clinton  the  period  of  bis  clearly  ascer- 
tained supremacy  is  included  between  the  years  687-527. 


PEISISTRATUS.  149 

within  and  open  violence  from  without.  But  after  ho  had  at- 
tained to  the  possession  of  power  he  exercised  it  for  the  bene- 
fit of  Athens.  It  is  under  him  that  Athens  first  makes  her 
appearance  as  a  naval  power.  The  conquest  of  the  maritime 
districts  of  Thrace,  with  all  their  resources,  an  event  of  great 
importance  in  the  history  of  Athens,  was  made  under  his  rule. 
Athens  thus  obtained  a  certain  rank  among  the  powers  by 
which  she  was  surrounded.  "We  have  almost  to  stretch  a 
point  in  order  to  call  Peisistratus  a  tyrant — a  word  which  car- 
ries with  it  the  invidious  sense  of  a  selfish  exercise  of  power. 
No  authority  could  have  been  more  rightly  placed  than  his ; 
it  combined  Athenian  with  Panhellenist  tendencies.  But  for 
him  Athens  would  not  have  been  wdiat  she  afterwards  be- 
came to  the  world.  The  greatest  injustice  has  been  done  to 
the  oldest  of  the  exact  historians,  Thukydides,  in  attributing 
the  good  opinion  which  he  expresses  of  Peisistratus  to  per- 
sonal considerations  such  as  any  historian,  really  intent  upon 
his  office,  dismisses  from  his  view.  Nevertheless,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  Peisistratus  governed  Athens  absolutely,  and 
even  took  steps  to  establish  a  permanent  tyranny.  He  did,  in 
fact,  succeed  in  leaving  the  power  he  possessed  to  his  sons, 
Hippias  and  Hipparchus.  Their  reign,  like  his  own,  is  de- 
scribed in  a  Platonic  dialogue  as  a  golden  age,  so  complete  was 
the  prosperity  of  Athens  in  those  days  of  peace.  But  public 
prosperity  can  never  efface  the  memory  of  a  defective  title. 
It  could  not  fail  to  be  keenly  felt  how  much  was  implied  in 
the  heavy  tax  which  the  despots,  in  order  to  keep  up  their 
power,  laid  upon  the  land,  whilst  the  people  remained  un- 
armed. The  commonalty  gradually  dissociated  themselves 
from  the  house  of  Peisistratus,  to  w^iich  they  had  been  at- 
tached. Of  the  two  brothers  it  w^as  the  one  who  had  rendered 
most  service  to  culture,  Hipparchus,  who  was  murdered  at  the 
festival  of  the  Panathenaea.  It  was  an  act  of  revenge  for  a 
personal  insult.  But  there  is  no  doubt  that  republican  senti- 
ment gave  the  dagger  its  edge,  and  the  assassins  were  cele- 
brated as  men  who  had  sacrificed  their  own  lives  to  the  res- 
toration of  freedom.  In  his  dread  lest  he  should  be  visited 
by  a  similar  doom,  Hippias  actually  became  an  odious  tyrant 
and  excited  universal  discontent. 


150  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

One  effect,  however,  of  the  loss  of  stability  which  the  au- 
thority of  the  dominant  family  experienced  was  that  the 
leading  exiles  ejected  by  Peisistratus  combined  in  the  en- 
terprise which  was  a  necessary  condition  of  their  return,  the 
overthrow  of  Ilippias.  The  Alcmseonidse  took  the  principal 
part.  On  their  banishment  by  Peisistratus  they  had  estab- 
lished themselves  in  Phokis,  where  they  had  gained  for  them- 
selves a  position  which  made  them  formidable  even  in  exile. 
They  were  in  close  compact  with  the  Delphic  oracle,  for 
which  they  built  a  splendid  temple ;  and  the  Spartans  were 
at  all  times  inclined  to  combat  a  rising  tyranny  and  to  set 
oligarchical  governments  like  their  own  in  its  place.  The 
Alcmseonidse  and  their  confederates  took  up  a  strong  posi- 
tion in  Attica,  close  to  the  frontier.  Ilippias,  on  his  side, 
obtained  the  support  of  some  Thessalian  cavalry ;  but  these 
at  the  crisis  were  unwilling  to  shed  their  blood  in  a  cause  in 
which  they  had  no  concern,  and  withdrew.  Unfortunately 
for  Ilippias,  his  children,  whom  he  had  sent  to  seek  their 
safety  in  flight,  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  combined  antago- 
nists. In  order  to  obtain  their  freedom  he  had  to  bring  him- 
self to  evacuate  the  citadel."^ 

The  revolution  to  which  this  opened  the  way  could,  it 
might  seem,  have  but  one  result,  the  establishment  of  an 
oligarchical  government ;  for  other  leading  families  had  joined 
with  the  Alcmseonidse,  and  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  aims 
of  the  Spartans  were  directed  to  this  end.  But  the  matter 
had  a  very  different  issue.  The  oligarchy  could  only  have 
been  established  through  a  complete  understanding  and  com- 
bination between  the  Alcmseonidae  and  the  remaining  families. 
But  between  these  two  parties  there  existed  an  ancient  feud 
which  was  always  being  stirred  into  a  flame  by  new  causes  of 
discord.  Another  motive  of  ancient  origin  also  made  its  in- 
fluence felt.    It  could  never  be  forgotten  in  Lakedremon  that 

*  The  expulsion  of  Ilippias  took  place  in  the  twentieth  year(Thuk.  vi. 
69),  before  the  battle  of  Marathon  (490  b.c.)  —  therefore  in  510  b.c.  In 
the  fourth  year  before  this  (Herod,  v.  55 ;  Thuk.  1.  c.)  Hipparchus  had 
been  slain,  i.  e.  in  614.  As  the  tyranny  of  the  sons  of  Peisistratus  lasted 
eighteen  years  (Ar.  "  Pol."  v.  9, 23=13,  p.  280, 18,  Bekker),  his  death  must 
be  placed  in  the  year  627.    Cf.  Clinton,  "  Fasti  Hell."  ii.  p.  201  sq. 


CLEISTHENES.  151 

the  Alcmgeonidae  were  emigrant  Messenians,  who  had  sought 
and  found  refuge  in  Athens.  It  soon  appeared  that,  though 
between  the  Alcmseonidse  and  the  Spartans  a  transitory  un- 
derstanding might  be  established,  no  lasting  concord  was  to 
be  expected.  In  this  conflict,  on  the  one  side  with  the  families 
of  the  Eupatridae,  on  the  other  with  the  Spartans,  the  Alcmse- 
onid  Cleisthenes  conceived  the  thought  of  conferring  on  the 
democratic  institutions  created  by  Solon  an  authority  inde- 
pendent of  the  will  and  pleasure  of  those  of  his  own  rank. 
For  this  object  a  thorough  transformation  of  the  Demos  was 
necessary.*  The  principal  step  to  this  end  consisted  in  break- 
ing np  the  old  tribes,  which  in  their  corporate  organization 
supported  the  traditional  influence  of  the  Eupatridae.  In  this 
he  followed  the  example  of  his  grandfather  Cleisthenes,  who, 
in  order  to  bring  the  city  of  Sikyon  into  complete  subjection 
to  himself,  had  broken  np  the  old  Doric  tribal  associations 
and  abolished  their  names.  It  was  thus  that  Cleisthenes  now 
dealt  with  the  Ionian  tribes,  yet,  it  must  be  clearly  under- 
stood, with  very  different  ends  in  view.  The  grandfather 
had  aimed  at  tyranny  for  himself  ;  the  grandson  opposed  him- 
self at  once  to  tj^anny  and  to  the  authority  of  the  Eupatridae. 
He  established  a  new  partition  of  the  people  into  ten  tribes, 
which  gave  to  tlie  democratic  principle  the  upper  hand. 
This  did,  indeed,  immediately  provoke  an  oligarchical  reac- 
tion, which  was  once  more  supported  by  the  Spartans.  The 
latter,  in  conjunction  with  their  Peloponnesian  allies,  ad- 
vanced under  their  king,  Cleomenes,  in  order  to  stay  the  inno- 
vations at  their  outset.  They  brought  up  once  more  against 
Cleisthenes  the  old  guilt  of  the  Alcmaeonidae,  and  he  was 
forced  for  the  time  to  retire.  The  Athenian  democracy,  which 
was  now  compelled  without  his  assistance  to  defend  with 
might  and  main  its  newly  won  privileges,  was  chiefly  aided 
by  the  circumstance  that  the  rest  of  the  Peloponnesians  were 
already  little  disposed  to  allow  the  Spartans  to  become  masters 
of  Attica.  Instead  of  seriously  engaging  in  the  war,  they 
broke  up  their  union.     This  took  place  upon  the  plain  of 

*  This  change  of  the  constitution  cannot  have  taken  place  earlier  than 
507  B.C.    Cf.  Schomann,  "  Die  Yeifassungsgeschichte  Athens,"  p.  80. 


152  ANCIENT  HELLAS. 

Eleusis.  To  the  Peloponnesians  themselves  the  freedom  of 
Athens  was  indispensable,  if  they  were  not  to  become  com- 
pletely dependent  upon  Sparta.  There  were  still  Boeotians 
and  Chalkidians  in  the  field  to  maintain  the  cause  of  oli- 
garchy. The  Athenians,  with  Cleisthenes  now  once  more  at 
their  head,  fought  for  their  cause  with  a  courage  which  they 
had  never  hitherto  displayed,  and  with  the  best  success.  For 
"an  excellent  weapon,"  says  Herodotus,  "is  isegoria ;  each 
man  knows  that  he  is  fighting  for  himself." 

It  was  thus  that  the  democracy  of  Athens  sprang  into  life. 
Its  rise  was  not  due  immediately  to  the  idea  of  universal  and 
inalienable  rights,  nor  was  it  so  regarded  either  by  Solon  or 
by  Cleisthenes ;  for  them  it  was  a  step  dictated  by  political 
necessity.  But  when  once  established  it  gained  an  irresistible 
strength,  and  became  the  most  efficient  among  the  primary 
forces  at  work  in  the  subsequent  history  of  Greece. 


Chapter  YI. 

THE  ENCOUNTER  BETWEEN  THE  GREEKS  AND  THE  PERSIAN 

EMPIRE. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century  before  our  era 
the  future  of  the  world  seemed  to  belong  to  the  Greeks.  We 
know  how  their  colonies  expanded  over  all  the  coasts  and 
bays  of  the  Mediterranean  and  Black  Sea.  It  would  have 
been  for  them  a  step  of  momentous  importance  if  their  ally 
Pharaoh  Necho  of  Egypt  had  executed  his  plan  of  uniting 
the  Red  Sea  with  the  Mediterranean  by  a  canal.  They  would 
thus  have  been  brought  into  direct  intercourse  with  Arabia 
and  India.  Necho  was  a  prince  who  aspired  as  high  as  his 
epoch  permitted,  but  who  failed  to  achieve  his  aim ;  the 
Greeks  might  serve  to  defend  Egypt,  not,  however,  to  raise 
her  to  the  empire  of  the  world. 

There  was,  however,  an  atmosphere  spreading  generally 
over  the  eastern  gulf  of  the  Mediterranean  which  gave  prom- 
ise of  a  fusion  between  the  powers  of  the  East  and  Greek 
aspirations  and  aptitudes.  We  are  speaking  now  of  the 
period  between  the  destruction  of  the  Assyrian  and  the  rise 
of  the  Persian  monarchy.  The  states  and  kingdoms  which 
were  at  this  time  prominent,  and  were  colliding  with  each 
other  on  various  lines,  sought  and  found  among  the  Greeks, 
who  possessed  the  best  weapons  and  were  most  practiced  in 
war,  competitive  offers  of  support.  We  meet  with  Greek 
auxiliaries  not  only  in  the  army  of  Necho,  but  also  in  the 
opposite  Babylonian  camp.  Kingdoms  of  moderate  extent, 
in  need  of  foreign  assistance  and  sufficiently  provided  with 
the  means  of  paying  for  it,  were,  indeed,  desirable  neighbors 
for  the  Greeks.  The  Mermnadae,  who  ruled  in  Lydia,  often 
came  in  conflict  with  the  Greeks  settled  on  the  shores  of  Asia 
Minor.     They  compelled  them  to  the  acknowledgment  of 


154  GREECE  AND   PERSIA. 

their  suzerainty  ;  but  meanwliile  the  internal  resources  of  the 
Ionian  and  -zEolian  cities  were  daily  upon  the  increase. 

The  kings  of  Lydia,  in  whom  the  Oriental  element  was  not 
particularly  strong,  attached  themselves  with  the  liveliest  in- 
terest to  the  Greeks.  Many  a  Greek  sanctuary  was  indebted 
to  King  Croesus  for  new  decorations.  It  was  from  Croesus 
that  Delphi  received  the  most  splendid  of  the  votive  offerings 
brought  to  her  shrine.  The  Pharaohs  of  the  Saitic  dj^nasty 
surrounded  themselves  with  an  Ionian  body-guard.  They 
maintained  brigades  of  Greek  troops  in  the  quarters  they  had 
established  at  the  mouths  of  the  Nile.  The  commerce  of 
Egypt,  at  any  rate  on  the  coast,  was  in  Greek  hands,  and  the 
reactionary  movement  which  once  more  took  place  in  favor 
of  native  Egyptian  interests,  though  it  overthrew  the  reign- 
ing dynasty,  yet  made  no  essential  difference  in  this  respect. 
Even  Amasis,  who  effected  the  change,  had  a  body-guard  of 
Greeks.  He  intrusted  Memphis  to  the  Greeks,  and  founded 
for  them  that  settlement  at  Naucratis  which  was  composed 
of  Dorians,  lonians,  and  ^olians  from  the  neighboring  islands 
and  coast  towns.  They  had  a  common  sanctuary,  called  the 
Hellenion  ;  for,  according  to  a  frequent  experience,  these 
races  were  most  inclined  to  remember  their  fellowship  with 
each  other  when  they  were  cast  among  strangers.  Halicar- 
nassus,  the  native  city  of  Herodotus,  took  part  in  these  meas- 
ures. The  king  permitted  the  Greeks  to  worship  the  gods 
after  their  own  and  not  after  the  Egyptian  fashion. 

Moreover,  Amasis  displayed  almost  as  great  reverence  as 
Croesus  for  the  divinities  worshipped  by  the  Greeks.  Accord- 
ingly, though  the  former  king  subdued  Cyprus,  the  loss  to 
Greece  was  not  without  its  compensations,  since  the  island 
was  thus  emancipated  from  the  Phoenician  and  Oriental  influ- 
ences to  which  it  had  been  subjected  for  centuries.  Wo  may 
doubtless  in  this  case  distinguish  between  two  kinds  of  inter- 
est, the  immediate  political  interest  and  the  national  interest, 
which  do  not  always  go  hand  in  hand.  The  latter  found  sup- 
port and  encouragement  both  in  Lydia  and  in  Egypt ;  with 
the  former  this  was  not  always  the  case. 

To  all  this,  liowover,  the  rise  of  the  Persian  monarchy  put 
an  end.     Tlio  destruction  of  the  kingdom  of  Lydia  was  a  loss 


THE  RISE  OF  PERSIA.  155 

to  the  Greeks  which  it  is  impossible  to  estimate.  The  hospi- 
table capital  of  the  monarch  was  replaced  by  the  residence  of 
a  Persian  satrap,  who  levied  a  fixed  tribute  from  the  country 
generally,  including  the  Greek  cities.  From  this  condition 
of  affairs  arose  in  these  cities  the  first  attempt  at  a  rebellion, 
through  a  native  to  whom  had  been  intrusted  the  collection 
of  the  taxes.  But  as  soon  as  the  Persian  power  was  set  in 
motion  the  attempt  collapsed,  and  had  no  other  consequence 
except  that  the  new  dominion  established  itself  all  the  more 
firml3\  Of  the  cities  which  had  taken  part  in  the  insurrec- 
tion some  were  sacked  and  others  levelled  with  the  ground 
by  the  superiority  of  the  Oriental  artillery.  The  fugitives 
sought  the  assistance  of  their  kindred ;  and  the  Greek  ele- 
ment, which  had  hitherto  been  pushing  towards  the  East,  was 
now  thrown  back  upon  its  native  region  in  the  West. 

Eesults  still  more  important  followed  from  the  subjugation 
of  Egypt  by  Cambyses.  The  event  of  most  importance  in 
preparing  the  way  for  this  result  was  the  withdrawal  of 
Cyprus  from  the  dominion  of  Egypt,  through  the  union  of 
the  Phoenicians  with  Persia.  Egypt  depended  upon  the  naval 
power  of  the  Greeks,  who  now  in  turn  lost  the  empire  of  the 
sea,  which  they  had  hitherto  maintained.  In  the  war  which 
ended  in  the  subjugation  of  Egypt  itself  the  Greeks  rather 
injured  than  assisted  Amasis.  Nevertheless  his  overthrow 
was  a  great  calamity  to  themselves.  In  Egypt  a  power  made 
itself  supreme  which  could  not  possibly  tolerate  the  Greek 
influence.  The  Greeks  never  maintained  friendly  intercourse 
except  with  potentates  opposed  to  the  Persians.  It  is  unde- 
niable that  the  extension  of  the  Persian  dominion  over  Asia 
Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt  gave  a  violent  check  to  the  onward 
movement  of  Greek  life.  On  the  other  hand,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  great  enterprise  of  Darius  Ilystaspis  against  the  Scythians 
ought  to  have  united  the  Greeks  and  Persians.  It  was  of  a 
piece  with  the  general  policy  of  Darius  that,  after  defeating 
60  many  other  adversaries,  he  undertook  to  prevent  for  all 
succeeding  time  a  repetition  of  those  inroads  with  which, 
some  centuries  before,  the  Scythians  had  visited  Asia  and  the 
civilized  world.  He  possessed  authority  enough  to  unite  the 
different  nations  which  obeyed  his  sceptre  in  a  great  campaign 


156  GREECE  AND  PEKSIA. 

against  the  Scjtliians.  The  subjection  into  which  the  Greeks 
on  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  had  been  brought — a  subjection 
so  complete  that  they  appear  in  the  Persian  monuments  as 
integral  parts  of  the  main  empire — prompted  him  to  make 
use  of  them  in  order  to  secure  a  strong  position  on  the  Dan- 
ube, and  thence  to  advance  into  the  Scythian  steppes.  It  is 
probable  that  he  really  cherished  the  design  of  pressing  on 
till  he  reached  the  passes  of  the  Caucasus,  through  which  the 
Scythians  had  formerly  made  their  irruption  into  Lydia  and 
Media.  Otherwise  it  would  scarcely  liave  occurred  to  him  to 
fix  a  period,  at  the  end  of  which  the  lonians,  who  built  him 
a  bridge  of  boats  over  the  Danube,  might,  if  he  did  not  come 
back,  themselves  return  home.  The  Greeks  were  his  best 
allies  in  his  campaign  ;  they  built  him  the  bridge  by  which 
he  crossed  the  Bosporus,  and  also  the  bridge  of  boats  over  the 
Danube  by  which  he  made  his  invasion  into  the  enemy's  ter- 
ritory. The  result  was  not  one  which  could  properly  be 
called  unfortunate;  yet  it  was  certainly  of  a  very  doubtful 
character.  The  Scythians  avoided  an  encounter  in  open  bat- 
tle with  the  overwhelming  forces  of  the  king.  Barbarism  has 
always  this  advantage  over  civilization  :  it  is  far  more  diffi- 
cult to  attack,  and  so  can  defend  itself  with  proportionately 
greater  ease.  There  were  no  frontiers  here,  as  there  were  on 
the  banks  of  the  laxartes,  which  could  be  secured  by  a  line  of 
fortresses.  Darius  attempted  something  like  this  upon  the 
Volga ;  he  erected  some  forts  there,  but  only  to  abandon  them 
immediately.  He  resolved  to  return  to  the  bridge,  which 
meanwhile  had  been  effectually  guarded  for  him,  and  to 
complete  the  subjugation  of  the  Thracian  populations  as  far 
as  this  had  not  already  been  achieved  on  his  first  passage 
through  the  country.  Here  was  another  conspicuous  success 
which  turned  out  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  Greeks.  A  great 
region,  in  which  they  had  already  obtained  very  considerable 
influence,  was  closed  to  tliem  once  more.  The  Persian  army 
brought  the  populations  upon  the  Strymon,  many  in  num- 
ber and  individually  weak,  under  the  dominion  of  Persia; 
and  even  Amyntas,  the  king  of  Makedonia,  one  of  a  race  of 
rulers  of  Greek  origin,  was  compelled  to  do  homage  to  the 
Great  King.     Thus  the  movement  whicli  had  thrust  back  the 


DARIUS.  157 

Greeks  from  Egypt  and  Asia  Minor  made  advances  even  into 
tlie  regions  of  Europe  which  bordered  upon  Northern  Hellas. 
It  was  an  almost  inevitable  consequence  of  this  that  the  Greeks 
were  menaced  and  straitened  even  in  their  proper  home. 

A  pretext  and  opportunity  for  an  attack  upon  the  Greek 
islands  was  presented  to  the  Persians  by  the  questions  at 
issue  between  the  populations  of  the  cities  and  the  tyrants, 
which,  by  the  constant  bickerings  they  excited,  sufficed  of 
themselves  to  give  full  employment  to  the  inhabitants.  The 
argument  is  well  known  by  which,  after  the  passage  of  Darius 
over  the  Danube,  the  proposal  to  destroy  the  bridge — a  meas- 
ure which  would  have  prevented  the  return  of  the  king,  and 
would  have  restored  the  subject  nations  to  freedom — was  re- 
jectee!. It  was  these  very  tyrants  who,  with  their  followers, 
were  in  charge  of  the  bridge.  They  took  account  of  the  dan- 
ger that,  if  the  design  were  carried  out,  nations  and  cities 
would  rise  in  insurrection,  and  that  all  the  dominion  which 
they  enjoyed  would  be  lost.  From  Miletus,  where  this  feel- 
ing found  the  strongest  advocacy,  steps  were  taken  under  the 
direction  of  the  tyrant  Aristagoras  to  subdue  IN'axos,  the  most 
powerful  of  the  Kyklades  which  still  remained  free,  and  it 
was  designed  when  this  was  effected  to  make  an  attempt  upon 
Euboea  also.  The  vision  of  the  great  and  ever-encroaching 
empire  dominated  the  horizon  of  every  other  race.  Even  the 
citizens  of  Athens,  when  hard  pressed  by  the  Lakedaemonians 
and  Boeotians,  had  entertained  the  idea  of  invoking  the  assist- 
ance of  the  satrap  of  Sardis.  Such  support  was,  however,  far 
more  accessible  to  the  Peisistratidae,  who  had  fled  to  Sigeum, 
and  had  relations  of  affinity  with  the  tyrant  of  Lampsacus. 
Hippias  brought  over  to  his  side  Artaphernes,  the  king's 
brother,  the  same  satrap  of  Sardis  to  whom  the  Athenians  had 
applied.  While,  as  we  took  occasion  to  remark,  Peisistratus 
cherished  Hellenic  as  opposed  to  Oriental  views,  it  is  obvious 
that,  in  complete  antithesis  to  his  policy,  the  restoration  of  his 
son  would  have  meant  the  subjection  of  Athens  to  the  Per- 
sians. The  sequence  of  events  all  pointed  to  one  end.  The 
Greeks  had  lost  their  preponderance  on  the  shores  of  the  eastern 
Mediterranean ;  their  colonies  in  Asia  Minor  had  been  over- 
powered, and  they  liad  been  compelled  to  retire  from  their 


158  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

Thracian  dominion.  These  evidences  of  superiority  were 
soon  accompanied  by  an  interference  with  the  islands,  which 
threatened  to  extend  even  to  the  mother  country.  It  cannot 
be  denied  that  the  energetic  world  of  Greece  was  in  danger 
of  being  crushed  in  the  full  course  of  its  vigorous  develop- 
ment. It  might,  indeed,  be  said  that  such  a  suppression  of 
the  Greek  spirit  in  its  strenuous  upward  effort  would  have 
been  in  the  nature  of  things  an  impossibility.  Undoubtedly, 
if  events  are  determined  by  a  controlling  idea,  the  general 
tendency  of  human  development  could  not  have  brought 
about  the  subjection  of  the  Greeks  to  the  Persians.  But  the 
history  of  mankind  does  not  move  solely  upon  such  transcen- 
dental ground.  The  historical  question  is,  what  the  causes 
were  which  prevented  such  a  result.  One  cause,  no  doubt, 
was  that  the  Greeks  had  no  central  authority  to  barter  away 
the  freedom  of  the  rest.  They  acted  as  a  number  of  free  and 
independent  communities,  some  of  which  might  perhaps  be 
brought  over,  in.  which  case,  however,  the  rest  would  all  the 
more  certainly  be  compelled  to  opposition.  The  spontaneity 
which  was  characteristic  of  the  Greeks  was  not  to  be  recon- 
ciled with  the  attributes  of  supreme  power  in  Persia.  This 
was  first  made  apparent  amongst  those  whom  the  Persians 
had  already  subdued ;  they  could  not  endure  their  dominion 
for  any  length  of  time. 

Let  us  endeavor  to  realize  the  situation  and  circumstances 
in  which  this  opposition  first  manifested  itself.  The  instru- 
ment by  whom  the  crisis  was  brought  about  was  not  a  person 
of  any  great  importance.  It  is  not  always  great  natures,  or 
natures  strong  in  the  consciousness  of  their  own  powers,  that 
bring  on  such  conflicts ;  this  is  sometimes  the  work  of  those 
flexible  characters  which,  being  at  the  point  of  contact  be- 
tween the  opposing  forces,  pass  from  one  side  to  the  other. 
Such  a  character  was  Aristagoras  of  Miletus.  It  was  that 
very  enterprise  against  ISTaxos  which  he  had  himself  suggested 
to  the  Persians  that  led  to  his  separating  himself  from  them. 
The  reason  was  that  a  barbarous  punishment  was  inflicted  by 
the  Persian  general  upon  a  guest-friend  of  Aristagoras,  which 
the  latter  resented  as  an  intolerable  wrong,  especially  since 
tho  undertaking  had,  properly  speaking,  been  intrusted  to 


ARISTAGORAS  OF  MILETUS.  159 

himself,  and  the  Persian  leader  had  only  the  secondary  part 
assigned  to  him.  The  Persians  exacted  subordination  and 
strict  discipline;  the  Greeks  desired  preferment  in  service 
and  consideration  for  their  own  nationality.  The  failure  in 
the  enterprise  against  Naxos  was  in  itself  an  event  of  im- 
portance, as  it  secured  Eubcea  and  the  shores  of  conti- 
nental Greece.  But  the  division  between  the  Persians  and 
the  Ionian  Greeks,  which  resnlted  from  that  failure,  is  of 
more  importance  than  the  failure  itself.  The  arch  which  the 
Persians  had  just  erected  w^as  thus  deprived  of  the  key-stone 
in  which  all  the  peril  of  Greece  was  concentrated. 

Morally  contemptible,  but  gifted  intellectually  with  a  range 
of  ideas  of  unlimited  extent,  Aristagoras  made  for  himself  an 
imperishable  name  by  being  the  first  to  entertain  the  thought 
of  a  collective  opposition  to  the  Persians  on  the  part  of  all  the 
Greeks,  even  contemplating  the  possibility  of  waging  a  great 
and  successful  offensive  war  upon  them.  Aristagoras  began 
his  undertaking  with  the  fleet  itself  upon  its  return  from 
Naxos.  He  succeeded  by  artifice  in  getting  into  his  hands 
the  tyrants  who  had  taken  part  with  their  vessels  in  the  at- 
tack upon  Naxos,  and  he  delivered  them  up  to  the  cities  which 
had  only  with  reluctance  endured  their  dominion.  By  this 
act  he  imparted  to  the  most  important  of  all  Greek  interests 
a  movement  destined  to  spread  far  and  wide.  He  announced 
in  Miletus  his  own  resignation  of  power  and  the  restoration 
to  the  people  of  their  old  laws.  The  remaining  cities  also 
adopted  a  democratic  constitution,  and  we  may  perhaps  assume 
that  in  this  the  lonians  had  been  influenced  by  the  example 
of  Athens,  where  Cleisthenes  had  carried  out  his  plans  of 
civil  organization  a  short  time  before.  A  general  overthrow 
of  tyranny  ensued,  involving  a  revolt  from  Persia,  and  Strategi 
were  everywhere  appointed.  The  supreme  power  in  the  cities 
was  based  upon  a  good  understanding  between  the  holders  of 
power  and  the  Persians;  the  fact  that  one  of  these  rulers 
found  the  authority  of  the  Persians  intolerable  was  the  signal 
for  a  universal  revolt.  Aristagoras  himself  voluntarily  re- 
nounced the  tyranny,  the  other  tyrants  w^ere  compelled  to 
take  the  same  course;  and  thus  the  cities,  assuming  at  the  same 
time  a  democratic  organization,  came  into  open  hostility  with 


160  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

Persia.  Tlie  Milesian  Hecataeus,  with  his  experience  of  history, 
had  reminded  his  countrymen  of  the  difficulty  of  setting  them- 
selves free  from  Persia,  a  task  which,  in  view  of  the  power 
of  the  king,  he  declared  to  be  an  impossibility ;  the  cities  and 
islands  which  had  so  often  been  forced  to  submission  could 
not  hope  to  resist  the  Persians  by  their  own  unaided  efforts. 
Even  Aristagoras  could  not  have  expected  so  much. 

In  his  own  case  the  thought  of  opposition  may  have  been 
suggested  by  his  knowledge  of  the  superiority  of  the  Greek 
equipment  to  that  of  the  Persians.  He  conceived  that  the 
Orientals,  with  their  turbaned  heads,  their  long  trousers,  and 
their  short  swords,  must  inevitably  succumb  to  the  pupil  of 
the  naked  palaestra,  with  his  long  shield,  his  mighty  spear, 
and  armor  of  bronze.  He  visited  Lakedsemon,  the  strongest 
of  the  Greek  powers,  in  person,  and  endeavored  to  carry  her 
with  him  in  his  plans.  Before  the  Spartan  king  Cleomenes, 
who  was  personally  inclined  to  enterprises  of  wide  scope,  he 
laid  the  first  map  of  which  we  have  distinct  mention,*  a  map 
drawn  upon  a  sheet  of  copper,  in  which  the  separate  provinces 
of  the  Persian  Empire  were  marked  by  their  frontiers,  so  that 
it  no  longer  seemed  a  gigantic  unity,  but  was  grasped  in  detail. 
His  object  was  to  make  Cleomenes  comprehend  the  possibility 
of  pushing  through  these  provinces  to  Susa,  the  capital,  and 
breaking  up  the  whole  empire  by  a  single  bold  stroke.  The 
Spartan  king  is  said  to  have  been  admonished  by  his  own 
daughter,  still  a  child,  who  was  present  at  his  conversation 
with  Aristagoras,  not  to  let  himself  be  bribed  by  the  promises 
which  the  stranger  was  making  to  him.  But  there  were  other 
reasons  for  hesitating  to  accept  the  proposals  of  Aristagoras. 
The  principal  argument  he  adduced  was  that  Lakedaemon  was 
wasting  her  strength  in  a  useless  and  bloody  struggle  with  lier 
neighbors,  whilst  the  enterprise  he  proposed  promised  the 
greatest  success  and  the  richest  spoil.  But  it  was  precisely 
the  remoteness  of  the  goal  which  deterred  the  Spartans  from 
seriously  weighing  the  proposal.     Their  whole  energy  was  at 

•  Wc  do  not  attempt  to  determine  whether  this  was  the  map  of  the 
world  by  HccatflBUS,  but  undoubtedly  Miletus  was  the  birthplace  of  car- 
tography. 


ARISTAGORAS  OF  MILETUS.  161 

that  very  time  directed  to  those  struggles  with  tlieir  neigh- 
bors in  which  they  were  still  engaged.  They  were  proud  of 
having  expelled  Ilippias,  and  the  disgrace  of  having  been  re- 
pulsed by  the  Athenians  in  the  last  campaign  added  fresh  in- 
centives to  their  ambition.  In  meditating  the  restoration  of 
Hippias  they  were  unconsciously  acting  as  allies  of  the  Per- 
sians. But,  as  in  the  last  war,  so  now  again  their  confederates 
separated  from  them.  They  would  not  assist  in  restoring 
tyranny,  the  oppression  of  which  they  had  themselves  most 
bitterly  experienced.  Sparta,  whilst  refusing  to  attempt  the 
greater  aim,  failed  to  attain  its  general  and  immediate  ends. 

Eejected  by  Sparta,  Aristagoras  betook  himself  to  Athens. 
The  inducements  which  had  failed  to  impress  the  king  of 
Sparta  produced  upon  the  people  of  Athens  just  the  effect 
which  Aristagoras  intended.  We  may  suppose  that  the  great 
idea  of  national  union  recommended  itself  to  their  minds,  but 
besides  this  the  cause  of  which  Aristagoras  was  the  champion 
was  also  their  own.  The  restoration  of  Hippias  in  the  Per- 
sian interests  would  have  imposed  on  them  a  double  bondage 
under  Hippias  and  under  the  Persians.  But  they  had  now 
tasted  of  independence,  and  for  the  first  time  enjoyed  to  the 
full  the  advantages  which  it  gave  them  over  their  neighbors. 
We  are  tempted  to  assign  to  this  epoch  their  undertaking 
against  Lemnos  and  Imbros,  islands  which  they  not  only  Hel- 
lenized,  but  made,  so  to  speak,  a  part  of  their  republic ;  they 
had  the  courage  to  forestall  the  Persians  in  appropriating 
them.* 

It  was,  at  any  rate,  decisive  of  the  issue  that  the  Athenians, 
granted  Aristagoras  twenty  ships,  to  which  the  Eretrians,  from 


*  Grote,  "  History  of  Greece,"  iv.  p.  37 :  "  The  islands  of  Lemnos  and 
Imbros  seem  to  have  passed  into  the  power  of  the  Athenians  at  the  time 
when  Ionia  revolted  from  the  Persians."  It  is  permissible  to  read  in 
Grote  and  elsewhere  the  various  conjectures  concerning  the  date  of 
this  occupation  without  being  exactly  convinced  by  any  one  of  them. 
Throughout  the  whole  epoch  our  sole  authority  is  Herodotus,  who  is  no 
chronologer,  and  rather  follows  events  in  their  essential  connection  than 
in  their  exact  sequence  in  point  of  time.  In  this  account  we  shall  follow 
his  example  in  giving  prominence  only  to  the  former  method.  That 
which  is  legendary  we  may  leave  to  itself. 

11 


162  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

friendship  to  Miletus,  added  five  more.  The  courage  of  the 
lonians  was  thus  revived,  and  an  attack  upon  the  Persian 
dominion  commenced,  directed,  not  indeed  against  Susa,  but 
against  Sardis,  in  their  immediate  neigliborhood,  the  capital 
of  the  satrapy  which  imposed  on  them  their  heaviest  burdens. 
If  Ljdia  had  given  them  her  support,  the  course  of  events 
might  have  taken  an  entirely  different  turn.  But  the  Lydians 
were  disarmed,  and  far  removed  from  any  sympathy  with  the 
lonians.  Sardis  and  its  temples  were  consumed  by  fire  in  a 
tumultuous  attack ;  the  Greeks  did  not  even  venture  an  as- 
sault upon  the  citadel,  and  withdrew  before  the  forces  of  the 
Persians  as  soon  as  these  were  gathered  together.  In  their 
retreat  they  were  overtaken  and  utterly  defeated ;  but  the 
event  sufiiced  to  raise  the  momentous  issue.  By  the  burning 
of  Sardis,  in  which  a  sanctuary  of  Kybele  had  been  destroyed, 
the  Syrian  nations  had  been  outraged  in  the  person  of  their 
gods.  We  know  that  it  was  part  of  the  system  of  the  Per- 
sians to  take  the  gods  of  a  country  under  their  protection. 

Nor  would  the  great  king  who  thought  himself  appointed 
to  be  master  of  the  world  fail  to  resent  an  invasion  of  his 
dominions  as  an  insult  calling  for  revenge.  The  hostile  at- 
tempts of  the  lonians  made  no  great  impression  upon  him, 
but  he  asked  who  were  the  Athenians,  of  whose  share  in  the 
campaign  he  had  been  informed.  They  were  foreigners,  of 
whose  power  the  king  had  scarcely  heard.  It  is  said  that 
Darius  drew  the  bow,  the  symbol  of  power,  and  shot  an  ar- 
row into  the  sky,  calling  at  the  same  time  upon  his  god  (whom 
the  Greeks  call  Zeus,  but  who  was  doubtless  the  same  whom 
the  king  mentions  on  his  monuments,  namelj^,  Ahuramazda) 
to  grant  him  vengeance,  or  rather  chastisement,  upon  the 
Athenians.  The  enterprise  of  Aristagoras  had  meanwhile 
caused  general  commotion.  He  had  by  far  the  larger  part  of 
Cyprus,  together  with  the  Carians,  on  his  side.  All  the  country 
near  the  Propontis  and  the  Hellespont  was  in  revolt.  The 
Persians  were  compelled  to  make  it  their  first  concern  to 
suppress  this  insurrection,  a  task  which,  if  attempted  by  sea, 
did  not  promise  to  be  an  easy  one. 

In  their  first  encounter  with  the  Phoenicians  the  lonians 
had  the  advantage.    When,  however,  the  forces  of  the  great 


THE  IONIAN  REVOLT.  163 

empire  were  assembled,  the  insurrection  was  everywhere  put 
down.  In  Cyprus  this  result  was  principally  due  to  the  want 
of  union  among  the  Greeks  themselves,  in  Caria  to  the  supe- 
riority of  the  Persians  in  the  field.*  On  a  former  occasion  the 
Egyptians  had  proposed  to  unite  their  forces  with  those  of 
the  Greeks,  against  the  Persians ;  now  the  Egyptian  ships  of 
war  were  combined  with  the  Phoenicians.  The  Perso-Phceni- 
cian  fleet  appeared  upon  the  sea  with  an  overwhelming  display 
of  force.  Yet  the  issue  was  not  decided  at  once.  Perhaps 
the  lonians  who  had  collected  their  forces  at  Lade,  then  still 
an  island,  might  have  achieved  a  success  if  they  had  made  an 
attack  upon  the  Phoenician  fleet.  To  this  step  the  bravest  of 
their  leaders,  Dionysius  of  Phokasa,  who,  however,  had  only 
contributed  three  triremes,  endeavored  to  persuade  them.  But 
the  lonians  were  not  inclined  to  submit  to  the  rigorous  train- 
ing which  he  prescribed.  Besides  this,  they  were  told  that 
even  if  they  succeeded  in  destroying  this  fleet  the  king  would 
levy  a  power  five  times  as  great.  Meanwhile  the  superiority 
of  the  Persian  land  forces  had  displayed  itself,  and  amongst 
the  lonians  the  desponding  conviction  began  to  spread  that 
all  their  efforts  would  be  in  vain.  Whilst  this  impression 
was  general  the  exhortations  of  the  tyrants  they  had  expelled, 
though  at  first  rejected,  found  at  last  a  hearing.  Even  the 
Samians  thought  it  better  to  save  their  sanctuaries  and  their 
property  by  submission  than  to  forfeit  them  by  resistance. 
Accordingly,  when  the  Phoenicians  sailed  to  the  attack  on  the 
fleet  they  encountered  only  a  partial  resistance,  though  the 
Chians,  the  countrymen  of  Homer,  displayed  conspicuous  but 
unavailing  bravery.  The  lonians  suffered  a  complete  de- 
feat.   After  this,  Miletus  could  not  be  retained,  and  towns  and 

*  We  can  fix  the  date  of  these  events,  because  Thukydides  places  the 
death  of  Aristagoras  thirty-two  years  before  the  experiment  made  by  the 
Athenians  in  the  year  465-4  B.C.  to  colonize  the  neighborhood  in  which 
Amphipolis  subsequently  lay.  Aristagoras,  according  to  this,  must  have 
been  put  to  death  in  497-G.  But  before  his  decease  Cyprus  and  Caria  had 
been  subdued  ;  and  Cyprus  had  maintained  its  freedom  for  one  year  (cf. 
Clinton  on  the  year  497).  The  year  of  freedom  must,  therefore,  have 
been  499-8.  This  was  preceded  by  the  insurrection  of  Ionia,  which  may 
accordingly  be  assigned  to  the  year  500. 


164:  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

islands  in  rapid  succession  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Persians. 
To  lay  waste  districts  and  raze  cities  to  the  ground  was  no 
part  of  their  policy;  they  employed  their  victory  to  introduce 
a  regular  government,  such  as  miglit  bring  about  a  lasting 
subjection.  They  made  provision  to  deter  the  lonians  from 
disturbing  the  peace  of  the  country  by  dissensions  with  one 
another.  After  some  time  they  even  abolished  the  tyranny, 
the  existence  of  which  only  continued  to  interfere  with  the 
establishment  of  a  uniform  obedience.  Athens  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  naval  war,  but  yet  she  felt  the  misfortune  of  the 
lonians  as  her  own.  The  poet  who  represented  it  upon  the 
stage  was  punished ;  the  Athenians  felt  that  in  the  course 
things  were  taking  the  next  blow  would  fall  on  themselves. 
They  were  compelled  to  prepare  to  defend  themselves  single- 
handed  against  the  gigantic  and  overwhelming  power  of  the 
Great  King. 

It  must  be  reckoned  among  the  consequences  of  the  battle 
of  Lade,  by  which  the  combination  against  the  Persian  empire 
had  been  annihilated,  that  King  Darius,  not  content  with  hav- 
ing consolidated  his  dominion  in  Ionia,  once  more  resumed 
the  plan  of  pushing  forward  into  Europe,  of  which  his  enter- 
prise against  the  Scythians  formed  part.  With  the  execution 
of  this  project  he  commissioned  one  of  the  principal  persons 
of  the  empire  and  the  court,  tlie  son  of  one  of  the  seven  Per- 
sians who  had  taken  so  great  a  share  in  the  elevation  of  the 
AchsDmenidae,  Mardonius  by  name,  whom  he  united  to  his 
own  family  by  marrying  him  to  his  daughter.  To  Mardonius 
are  to  be  ascribed  the  institutions  lately  established  in  Ionia. 
This  general  crossed  the  Hellespont*  with  a  large  array,  his 
fleet  always  accompanying  him  along  the  shore  wliilst  he 
pushed  on  by  the  mainland.  He  once  more  subdued  Make- 
donia,  probably  the  districts  which  had  not  yet,  like  the  Make- 
donian  king,  been  brought  into  subjection,  and  gave  out  that 
liis  aim  was  directed  against  Eretria  and  Athens,  the  enemies 
of  tlio  king.  For  the  execution  of  this  design  it  seemed  in- 
dispensable that  he  should  subdue  the  whole  of  the  mainland, 
barbarian  and  Greek,  without  distinction.    Yet  this  was  more 

*  402  B.C.  according  to  Clinton,  408  according  to  Curtius. 


FIRST  PERSIAN  INVASION.  1^5 

than  he  could  compass.  In  the  stormy  waters  near  Mount 
Atlios,  which  have  always  made  the  navigation  of  the  ^gean 
diflScult,  his  fleet  suffered  shipwreck.  But  without  naval  sup- 
ports he  could  not  hope  to  gain  possession  of  an  island  and  a 
maritime  town  situated  on  a  promontory.  Even  by  land  he 
encountered  resistance,  so  that  he  found  it  advisable  to  post- 
pone the  further  execution  of  his  undertakings  to  another 
time.  Yet  the  situation  was  so  far  unchanged  that  the  Per- 
sian power  as  a  whole  continued  to  expand,  and  threatened 
the  life  of  Greece  with  extinction. 

The  majority  of  the  cities  and  towns  complied  with  the 
demand  made  upon  them  and  gave  the  king  earth  and  water. 
In  order  to  subdue  the  recalcitrants,  especially  Athens  and 
Eretria,  another  attempt  was  organized  without  delay.  Under 
two  generals,  one  of  whom,  Datis,  was  a  Mede,  the  other 
Artaphernes,  the  son  of  the  satrap  of  Sardis  of  the  same  name, 
and  brother  of  the  Darius  who  was  in  alliance  with  Hippias, 
a  maritime  expedition  was  undertaken  for  the  immediate  sub- 
jugation of  the  islands  and  the  maritime  districts.  It  was 
not  designed  for  open  hostility  against  the  Greeks  in  general. 
"  Why  flee  ye,  holy  men  ?"  said  the  Persians  to  those  of  Delos. 
Datis  burned  three  hundred  pounds  of  incense  at  the  shrine 
venerated  as  the  birthplace  of  the  two  deities.  The  religion 
of  Ahuramazda  did  not  forbid  them  to  take  foreign  worships 
under  their  protection,  and  they  were  anxious  not  to  have  the 
Greek  gods  against  them.  Their  design  was  to  utilize  the 
internal  dissensions  of  Greece  in  conquering  the  principal 
enemies  upon  whom  the  Great  King  had  sworn  vengeance, 
and  presenting  them  as  captives  at  his  feet.  The  project 
succeeded  in  the  case  of  Eretria.  In  spite  of  a  brave  resistance 
it  fell  by  treachery  into  their  hands,  and  they  could  avenge 
the  sacrilege  committed  at  Sardis  by  plundering  and  devastat- 
ing Grecian  sanctuaries.  They  expected  now  to  be  able  to 
overpower  Athens  also  without  much  trouble.  Her  enemies, 
amongst  them  the  ^ginetans,  had  sent  to  the  king  the  tokens 
of  subjection,  mainly  in  order  to  assure  themselves  of  his 
support  against  her.  Moreover,  the  Peisistratidre  still  had  in 
the  city  and  rural  districts  a  party  which  Hippias,  who  acted 
as  guide  to  the  Persians,  hoped  to  rouse  to  exertion.    In  a 


1G6  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

straight  line  from  that  part  of  the  coast  which  lay  opposite 
the  now  subjugated  Euboea,  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  push  along 
the  familiar  road  to  Athens.  No  one  as  yet  had  been  able  to 
make  a  stand  before  the  terror  of  the  Persian  arms.  It  was 
unlikely  that  the  Athenians  would  venture  on  a  struggle 
which,  according  to  all  previous  experience,  offered  no  pros- 
pect of  success.  The  moment  was  one  of  the  most  important 
in  their  history.  If  the  Persians  had  conquered  Athens  the 
doom  of  the  democracy  would  probably  have  been  sealed  for- 
ever; the  dominion  of  the  Peisistratidae  would  have  been 
restored,  and  it  would  have  been  no  longer  the  old  dominion, 
but  one  far  more  violent,  and  supported  by  a  league  with 
Persia.  Athens  in  all  probability  would  have  fallen  into  the 
same  condition  as  that  which  had  once  been  the  lot  of  the 
Ionian  cities  under  the  tyrants.  The  Persian  spirit  would 
gradually  have  predominated  over  every  other  influence. 

It  was  a  circumstance  of  great  value  to  the  Athenians  that 
there  was  a  man  amongst  them  who  was  familiar  with  the 
Persian  tactics.  This  w^as  Miltiades,  the  son  of  Kimon.  The 
old  and  distinguished  family  from  which  he  was  descended 
had  risen  to  power  in  the  process  of  colonizing  the  Thracian 
Chersonese,  and  twenty  years  before  the  date  of  these  events 
Miltiades  had  succeeded  to  their  position ;  he  possessed  a  kind 
of  princedom  there,  and  united  himself  in  marriage  to  the 
daughter  of  a  Thracian  prince.  Thus  he  had  already  come 
into  contact  with  tlie  Persians.  It  was  no  fault  of  his  that 
the  bridge  over  the  Danube  over  which  King  Darius  had 
passed  to  invade  the  Scythians  remained  unbroken.  When, 
subsequently,  in  consequence  of  the  failure  of  tlie  attempt  on 
Sard  is,  that  reaction  took  place  which  prompted  the  Persians 
to  take  steps  for  the  reduction  of  the  islands  of  the  ^gean, 
he  found  it  impossible,  especially  as  he  was  hard  pressed  by 
other  enemies  as  well,  to  maintain  his  ground  upon  the  Cher- 
sonese. Ho  had  retired  before  the  Persian  fleet,  and  witli 
four  triremes — for  the  fifth  fell  into  their  hands — had  reached 
Athens.  Although  a  Thracian  prince,  he  had  never  ceased  to 
bo  a  citizen  of  Athens.  Here  he  was  impeached  for  having 
held  a  tyranny,  but  was  acquitted  and  chosen  stratcgus,  for 
the  democracy  could  not  reject  a  man  who  was  so  admirably 


MARATHON.  167 

qualified  to  be  at  their  head  in  the  interchange  of  hostilities 
with  Persia.  Miltiades  was  conducting  his  own  personal  quar- 
rel in  undertaking  tlie  defence  of  Attica. 

The  force  of  the  Persians  was  indeed  incomparably  the 
largely^  but  tlie  plains  of  Marathon,  on  which  they  were 
drawn  up,  prevented  their  proper  deployment,  and  they  saw 
with  astonishment  the  Athenian  hoplites  displaying  a  front 
as  extended  as  their  own.  These  troops  now  rushed  upon 
them  with  an  impetus  which  grew  swifter  at  every  moment. 
The  Persians  easily  succeeded  in  breaking  through  the  centre 
of  the  Athenian  army ;  but  that  was  of  no  moment,  for  the 
strength  of  the  onset  lay  in  the  two  wings,  where  now  began 
a  hand-to-hand  fight.  Tlie  Persian  sword,  formidable  else- 
where, was  not  adapted  to  do  good  service  against  the  bronze 
armor  and  the  spear  of  the  Hellenes.  On  both  flanks  the 
Athenians  obtained  the  advantage,  and  now  attacked  the 
Persian  centre,  which  was  not  able  to  withstand  the  onslaught 
of  men  whose  natural  vigor  was  heightened  by  gymnastic 
training.  The  Persians,  to  their  misfortune,  had  calculated 
upon  desertion  in  the  ranks  of  their  opponents :  foiled  in  this 
hope,  they  retreated  to  the  shore  and  to  their  ships.f 


*  Justin  (ii.  9,  9)  estimates  their  number  at  600,000  men,  Cornelius  Ne- 
pos  (Miltiades,  c.  4,  2)  at  100,000  infantry  and  10,000  cavalry.  Even  from 
this  total  much  must  be  deducted,  for,  as  the  troops  had  to  be  brought 
over  by  sea,  their  number  could  not  have  been  so  immense.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Athenians  and  Platseans  liave  been  estimated  at  10,000  men 
(Nepos,  Miltiades,  c.  5,  1).  Justin  reckons  10,000  Athenians,  1000  Pla- 
taeans.  But  when  we  consider  that  the  Athenians  put  forth  all  their 
strength,  and  that  later  on  at  Platjca,  although  a  great  part  of  them  were 
in  the  fleet,  they  set  16,000  men  in  the  field,  we  may,  perhaps,  feel  some 
doubts  as  to  the  scantiness  of  their  numbers.  Mitford  ("  History  of 
Greece,"  ii.  Ill)  supposes  15,000  heavy-armed  men  and  as  many  or  even 
more  light-armed.  Bockh  reminds  us  ("  Die  Staatshaushaltung  der  Athe- 
ner,"  i.  p.  276)  that  the  estimates  are  only  to  be  understood  of  the  num- 
ber of  the  hoplites. 

t  Tlie  battle  of  Marathon  falls  in  the  archonship  of  Phsenippus,  01.  72, 
3=490  B.C.,  in  the  fifth  year  before  the  death  of  Darius  and  the  tenth 
before  the  enterprise  of  Xerxes  against  Greece  (cf.  Clinton,  "  Fasti  Hell." 
ii.  under  this  year,  and  p.  246).  The  day  of  the  battle  is  said  by  Plu- 
tarch to  have  been  the  6th  of  Boedromion.    Some  modern  writers,  how- 


168  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

Herodotus  intimates  that  the  Persians  had  secret  intelli- 
gence with  a  party  in  Athens,*  and  took  their  course  round 
the  promontory  of  Suniuni  towards  the  city,  in  the  hope  of 
surprising  it.  But  when  they  came  to  anchor  the  Athenians 
had  arrived  also,  and  they  saw  themselves  once  more  con- 
fronted by  the  victors  of  Marathon. 

The  truth  of  the  distinction  which  Aristagoras  once  drew 
between  the  Greeks  and  the  Orientals  was  now  confirmed, 
not,  indeed,  in  an  attack  such  as  he,  anticipating  the  remote 
future,  had  suggested,  but  in  resistance.  They  had  not  made 
a  conquest,  but  Athens  had  been  saved.  I  am  not  inclined 
to  cloud  the  splendor  of  their  exploit  by  a  calculation  of 
probabilities,  for  which  extant  traditions  are  quite  inade- 
quate to  form  the  basis.  It  was  a  blow  which  the  Persians 
attempted  in  overwhelming  force  by  land  and  sea,  parried  by 
the  Athenians  with  dexterous  boldness  and  under  successful 
generalship,  an  occurrence  of  no  great  compass  in  a  military 
sense,  but  pregnant  with  the  future  and  like  a  solemn  utter- 
ance of  destiny. 

King  Darius,  in  whom  the  spirit  of  the  Persian  power  was 
so  faithfully  mirrored,  was  still  living.  He  at  least  succeeded 
in  remedying  b}^  forethought  the  great  defect  attaching  to 
monarchy  in  the  East,  the  uncertainty  of  the  succession. 
Among  the  sons  borne  to  him  by  different  wives  he  appoint- 
ed the  one  who  was  an  Achsemenid  also  on  the  mother's  side, 
Xerxes  (Khshayai'shil),  to  be  his  successor;  so  that  a  contest 
for  the  throne,  such  as  so  often  broke  out  in  later  times,  was 
avoided.  The  empire  was  at  the  climax  of  its  power  and 
prosperity.  The  disastrous  attack  on  Attica  was  accompanied 
by  a  commotion  in  Egypt.     Darius  subdued  it,  and  it  seemed 

ever,  have  thought  it  probable  that  Plutarch  has  confused  the  day  of 
thanksgiving  with  that  of  the  battle.  In  particular  this  is  the  opinion 
of  Bockh  ("Zur  Geschichte  dcr  Mondcyclen  der  Hollenen,"  p.  CO  sq.); 
he  assigns  the  battle  to  the  17th  of  Metageitnion=2  Sept. 

*  The  Alcmajonidaj,  as  many  supposed :  but  the  charge  is,  with  good 
reason,  contradicted  by  Herodotus,  vi.  115,  121  sq.  The  Alcnia?onida3 
expelled  Ilippias,  whom  the  Persians  were  endeavoring  to  restore,  and 
introduced  the  democracy,  to  which  tbo  vigorous  resistance  of  Athens 
was  chiefly  due. 


XERXES.  169 

quite  certain  that  lie  would  now  resume  the  enterprise  against 
Greece,  when  in  the  year  485  he  died. 

We  read  with  pleasure,  in  Herodotus,  the  deliberations 
which  the  young  Xerxes,  an  early  Porphyrogenitus,  is  said 
to  have  held  upon  the  renewal  of  a  campaign  against  the 
Greeks.  We  gather  from  it  all  that  could  be  said  for  and 
against  the  expedition.  In  its  favor  was  the  proud  convic- 
tion which  the  Persians  cherished,  that  they  were  the  first 
race  in  the  world,  and  that  to  them  belonged  universal  do- 
minion, the  sole  obstacle  in  their  way  being  the  resistance  of 
the  Greeks;  if  this  were  overpowered,  the  air  of  heaven 
would  form  the  sole  limit  of  their  empire.  Against  it  were 
urged  the  disastrous  experiences  of  the  last  campaigns  of  con- 
quest undertaken  by  Cyrus,  Cambyses,  and  Darius  himself; 
and  thus  occasion  is  taken  to  bring  into  prominence  the  idea 
of  the  Greek  religion  that  the  gods  show  no  favor  to  those 
who  have  reached  too  high  a  pinnacle  of  greatness.  Never- 
theless, the  resolution  was  taken,  upon  the  ground  of  men- 
acing dreams  which  constantly  recurred.  That  this  account 
really  accords  with  facts  no  one  would  think  of  maintaining; 
it  constitutes  the  beginning  of  that  historic  epos  which  He- 
rodotus has  left  to  posterity,  a  work  constructed  with  mar- 
vellous narrative  power,  but  not  without  a  legendary  element 
mingled  with  authentic  history.  To  an  historian  living  in  a 
later  age  it  might  seem  that  the  enterprise  could  scarcely  have 
been  the  subject  of  much  debate.  The  expedition  of  Datis 
and  Artaphcrnes  had  only  been  an  attempt  to  decide  the  issue 
at  a  single  blow.  It  was  frustrated  ;  and  the  undertaking  was 
resumed  which  Mardonius  had  formerly  contemplated  in  the 
course  of  the  campaign  beyond  the  Danube,  and  had  begun 
to  execute  on  an  extensive  scale,  but  which  had  been  inter- 
rupted in  consequence  of  unforeseen  disasters.  It  is  very 
intelligible  that  a  young  prince  who  had  just  ascended  the 
throne  should  have  taken  it  in  hand.  He  did  so,  putting 
forth  all  his  resources  in  the  full  consciousness  that  it  was  a 
task  of  the  very  widest  scope.  It  would  be  unprofitable  to 
repeat  the  details  which  Herodotus  gives  in  a  narrative  in 
which  Persian  and  Grecian  legends  are  interwoven.  Yet, 
amid  the  rest,  some  facts  of  historical  value  emerge.     In  the 


170  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

work  of  bridging  the  Hellespont  we  are  made  sensible  of  the 
difference  between  the  times  of  Darius  and  those  of  Xerxes. 
Under  Darius  the  lonians  had  been  the  artificers  of  the  bridge; 
under  Xerxes  it  was  chiefly  the  Phcenicians  and  Egyptians 
who  were  engaged  on  it.  The  ropes  of  the  first  bridge  were 
made  of  flax ;  those  of  the  second  of  papyrus.  The  whole 
was  the  work  of  the  most  skilful  craftsmen  among  the  Ori- 
entals.* The  same  hands  also  pierced  through  the  isthmus 
which  connects  Mount  Athos  with  the  mainland,  so  that  the 
ships  could  avoid  the  dangers  with  which  Mardonius  had  to 
struggle  in  rounding  the  promontory.  Not  merely  for  the 
campaign  in  which  they  were  engaged,  but  for  the  general 
command  of  the  ^gean  Sea,  the  undertaking  was  of  the 
greatest  importance,  and  it  appears  indisputable  that  tlie  skill 
of  the  Oriental  nations  in  marine  engineering  proved  equal  to 
the  task.f 

In  the  Thermaic  Gulf  Xerxes  united  his  forces  on  land 
and  sea.  Both  were  of  colossal  dimensions ;  the  land  forces 
are  estimated  at  more  than  a  million  warriors,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  80,000  cavalry,  the  number  of  the  ships  at  more  than 
1200.  In  the  army  it  would  seem  the  Persians  had  the  ex- 
clusive command;  on  sea  the  Phoenician  squadron  was  the 
most  considerable.  It  was  a  display  of  power  fitted  to  sup- 
port the  Persian  claim  to  the  empire  of  the  world.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Greeks  were  disunited  and  careless.  Not 
only  the  Aleuadse  in  Thessaly,  whose  object  it  was  to  secure 
for  themselves  the  dominion  in  that  country,  but  also  power- 
ful cities  and  communities,  such  as  Argos  and  Thebes,  which 
supposed  that  in  this  way  they  were  best  providing  for  their 
security,  came  over  to  the  king's  side.  The  sentiment  of 
Panhellenism  was  only  in  the  germ,  and  far  from  sufficient 
to  unite  the  divided  cities  and  districts.  It  is  affirmed  of 
Gelon,  the  tyrant  of  Syracuse,  that  he  was  only  awaiting  the 
event  in  order  to  submit  to  the  Persians,  if,  as  was  to  be  ex- 

•  The  expression  in  Herod,  vii.  86, "  other  master  builders  "  (dXXot  Jkpxi- 
rirrorfc),  applied  to  those  employed  after  the  first  mishap,  imi>lie8  no 
change  of  nationality,  but  only  a  change  of  persons. 

t  As  regards  the  fact  of  this  achievement,  I  side  with  Lcakc  and  Groto 
("HiBtory  of  Greece,"  v.  p.  80). 


SECOND  PERSIAN  INVASION.  171 

pected,  the  victory  rested  with  them,  because  he  miglit  then 
have  counted  upon  finding  support  from  the  Great  King 
against  the  Carthaginians,  by  whom  he  was  hard  pressed  at 
the  time.  Strictly  speaking,  it  is  only  Sparta  and  Athens 
that  can  be  regarded  as  determined  enemies  to  the  Persians. 
They  had  thrown  the  heralds  of  the  late  king,  when  they  de- 
manded the  tokens  of  subjection,  into  pits  or  wells,  and  had 
bidden  them  fetch  earth  and  water  from  thence.  They  had 
now  to  apprehend  the  vengeance  of  the  king,  and  therefore 
lield  together,  without,  however,  any  real  bond  of  sympathy. 

The  greatest  danger  for  the  Greeks  lay  in  the  combination 
of  the  Persian  military  and  naval  forces.  The  first  attempt 
at  resistance,  made  by  a  body  of  men  gathered  in  the  vale  of 
Tempo,  in  numbers  which  might  have  been  formidable  in  a 
struggle  among  the  mountains,  had  to  be  abandoned,  since 
the  Persian  fleet  was  able  at  any  moment  to  land  troops  who 
would  have  attacked  the  defending  force  in  the  rear.  In  a 
second  position,  which  the  Greeks  resolved  to  maintain,  their 
maritime  armament  was  far  better  able  to  co-operate  with 
their  land  force.  Whilst  the  Spartans,  under  their  king  Le- 
onidas,  held  the  pass  of  Thermopylae,  the  Athenians,  with 
daring  courage,  defended  the  strait  between  the  mainland 
and  the  promontory  of  Artemisium,  in  Euboea.  The  conduct 
of  the  Spartans  at  Thermopylae  was  characterized  by  steadfast 
valor  and  obedience  to  their  laws,  and  has  supplied  a  model 
for  all  later  time ;  but  they  fell  a  sacrifice  to  overwhelming 
numbers,  and  to  that  treachery  which  even  here  was  found 
at  work.  In  consequence  of  this  the  Athenian  fleet  had  to 
withdraw  from  the  strait,  and  the  stream  of  Persian  con- 
quest swept  on  unchecked.  The  greater  part  of  the  Greek 
populations — Bceotia,  Phokis,  Doris — joined  the  Great  King. 
It  is  strange  to  note  that  claims  of  mythological  origin,  based 
especially  on  Perseus  and  the  Phrygian  Pelops,  recurred  to 
men's  memories.  Sparta  was  only  concerned  to  bar  the  pas- 
sage by  land  into  the  Peloponnesus,  and  the  Persians  were 
able  to  push  without  impediment  into  the  territory  of  Attica. 

We  must  bear  in  mind  the  whole  situation  in  order  to 
do  justice  to  the  resolution  formed  by  the  Athenians.  The 
armed  force  which  returned  from  Artemisium  no  sooner  land- 


172  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

ed  than  they  caused  proclamation  to  be  made  that  every  one 
should  leave  the  country  with  all  that  belonged  to  him, 
and  that  all  capable  of  bearing  arms  should  be  prepared  to 
serve  in  the  fleet.  We  do  not  find  it  distinctly  stated,  at  any 
rate  in  our  oldest  authority,  that  this  step  was  taken  in  con- 
sequence of  a  vote  of  the  democratic  assembly.*  There  is, 
however,  an  irresistible  force  of  circumstances  which  controls 
the  resolves  of  men.  There  was  no  other  course  open.  The 
oracle  of  Delphi  had  announced  in  mysterious  language  that 
all  was  lost,  but  to  a  second  despairing  appeal  had  replied  by 
directing  that  Athens  should  protect  herself  behind  wooden 
walls.  On  this  occasion  the  Athenians  profited  by  the  pres- 
ence amongst  them  of  one  who  was  at  once  a  born  sailor  and 
a  man  of  the  widest  ideas.  This  was  Themistocles,  who  had 
already  persistently  directed  all  the  resources  of  the  republic, 
even  to  the  neglect  of  every  individual  interest,  to  increasing 
the  power  of  his  state  at  sea.  Never  had  any  city  possessed 
a  navy  at  all  comparable  to  that  of  Athens,  and,  in  spite  of  all 
her  losses  at  Artemisium,  she  had  emerged  from  that  contest 
with  the  glory  of  successful  seamanship.  Although  others 
wished  to  interpret  the  oracle  by  a  reference  to  antiquity, 
the  explanation  of  Themistocles,  that  by  the  wooden  walls 
were  meant  the  ships,  found  most  support.  The  Athenians 
obeyed  the  command  without  resistance,  yet,  as  may  well  be 
imagined,  not  without  pain.  They  left  their  country,  in- 
trusting, as  it  were,  its  numerous  sanctuaries  to  the  protec- 
tion of  the  gods.     Nevertheless,  the  Persians  encountered  no 

♦  In  later  authors  a  resolution  to  this  effect  is  ascribed  to  the  assembly 
of  the  people  or  to  the  Areopagus  as  invested  with  extraordinary  powers 
(Plutarch,  "  Themist."  c.  10 ;  Cicero,  "  De  Officiis,"  i.  22, 75).  In  Herod- 
otus nothing  of  the  kind  is  stated.  His  words  would  lead  us  to  suppose 
that  the  order  had  proceeded  immediately  from  tlic  commanders  of  the 
fleet  (viii.  41) :  'AOrjvdioi  Kartaxov  ic  rtjv  iavriov.  fifrA  dk  Tt)v  diri^tv  Kt)pv' 
yfta  iTTOifiaavTOf'AOrjvaitov  rg  tiq  Ivvarai  aijZ,nv  ti\  r'tKva  t(.  koi  tovq  oiKtrac. 
The  armed  force  declared  that  the  country  could  not  be  saved,  and  that 
the  security  of  its  inhabitants  was  only  to  bo  found  in  flight  to  Salamis 
or  other  places  of  safety ;  the  step  is  not  attributed  to  the  orders  of  the 
tribunal  named  above,  or  to  any  regularly  conducted  deliberation.  Nev- 
ertheless, that  which  the  commanders  of  the  fleet  proclaimed  recommend- 
ed itself  to  the  judgment  of  the  country. 


SECOND  PERSIAN  INVASION.  173 

obstacle  in  taking  possession  of  it,  and  the  lofty  Acropolis 
and  the  temple  of  Aglaiirus  with  the  everlasting  olive  were 
burned.  The  Peisistratidaa,  who  on  this  occasion  also  accom- 
panied the  invading  army,  found  only  a  scanty  remnant  of 
the  inhabitants  gathered  round  the  priests  in  charge  of  the 
temples ;  all  the  rest  had  evacuated  the  country  and  taken  to 
the  ships.  This  may  fairly  be  reckoned  the  greatest  among 
the  great  resolves  recorded  in  history ;  it  reminds  lis  of  the 
Gueux,  betaking  themselves  with  all  their  possessions  to  their 
ships,  to  find  there  a  refuge  for  their  freedom.  But  the  self- 
devotion  of  the  Athenians  far  excelled  theirs.  We  might  be 
tempted  to  set  the  evacuation  of  Attica  beside  the  burning  of 
Moscow.  Yet  comparisons  are  of  little  service.  When  all  is 
said,  the  action  retains  a  local  and  individual  stamp  which  con- 
stitutes its  character  and  its  title  to  fame. 

The  immediate  question  was,  how  far  a  migration  of  this 
kind  could  lead  to  the  desired  end.  Themistocles  found 
himself  looked  upon  in  the  council  of  the  allies  as  one  with- 
out a  home.  With  a  proud  consciousness  of  his  own  dignity, 
he  protested  that  the  home  of  Athens  was  now  within  her 
walls  of  wood,  and  that,  if  the  Athenians  were  left  unsup- 
ported in  Greece,  they  w^ould  seek  a  new  country  for  them- 
selves in  Italy.  His  own  design,  however,  supported  by  the 
inclination  of  the  people  embarked  in  the  fleet,  was,  to  bring 
on  a  decisive  naval  battle  in  the  immediate  neighborhood. 
To  those  who  opposed  him,  many  of  whom  'would  have  pre- 
ferred to  retreat  to  the  Isthmus,  Themistocles  represented 
that,  on  the  withdrawal  of  the  fleet,  the  Persian  army  would 
make  a  forward  movement,  which  w^ould  put  the  Pelopon- 
nesus into  serious  danger,  and  that,  without  the  assistance  of 
the  Athenians,  the  rest  of  the  allies  would  certainly  be  lost, 
w^hilst  in  the  open  sea,  near  the  Isthmus,  they  would  tight  at 
a  greater  disadvantage  than  in  the  narrow  Gulf  of  Salamis. 
Everything  goes  to  show  that  the  Greeks  were  under  an  ab- 
solute necessity  of  fighting  on  the  spot — the  Athenians  be- 
cause they  were  resolved  either  never  to  leave  their  native 
land  while  they  saw  it  in  the  possession  of  the  enemy,  or  to 
leave  it  at  once  and  forever ;  the  rest  because  they  could  not 
acquiesce  in  the  departure  of  the  Athenians  witliout  hazard- 


174  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

ing  their  own  existence.  Xerxes  did  not  doubt  that  he  should 
master  both  elements  of  opposition,  and,  confident  of  victory, 
caused  a  throne  to  be  erected  upon  the  rocks  by  the  sea-shore, 
that  he  might  witness  in  person  the  lieroism  of  his  sailors.* 
He  believed  that  he  was  directing  the  final  blow  which  was 
to  make  Hellas  his  own. 

But  at  this  very  moment  he  ceased  to  be  master  of  the  sit- 
uation, for  he  allowed  himself  to  be  tempted  by  the  cunning 
Athenian  into  bringing  on  the  decisive  issue  in  the  waters  of 
a  gulf,  where  his  superiority  of  force  could  not  be  displayed 
with  advantage.  The  Persian  vessels,  advancing  in  the  ex- 
pectation of  finding  their  enemy  in  flight,  were  received  by 
the  spirited  paean  of  the  Greeks,  which — so  the  narrative  runs 
— was  re-echoed  from  the  roadsteads  of  the  island  and  the 
shores  of  the  mainland.  Themistocles  awaited  his  opportu- 
nity, and  restrained  for  a  brief  interval  the  advance  of  the 
Greek  vessels,  until  the  hour  when  the  wind  usually  begins 
to  blow  more  strongly,  and  raises  a  chopping  sea  in  the  gulf. 
This  was  a  point  in  favor  of  the  Greeks,  for  the  Phoenician 
vessels,  more  cumbrous  in  their  movements,  were  ill  adapted 
to  a  struggle  in  narrow  waters.  This  was  the  time  chosen  by 
Themistocles  for  beginning  the  main  attack.  He  liad  no 
need  to  fear  that  his  line  would  be  turned.  His  one  aim  was 
to  throw  the  approaching  enemy  into  confusion  by  a  vigorous 
and  well-directed  onset,  and  to  drive  them  back.  Tiie  result 
was  due,  above  all,  to  the  fact  that,  whilst  the  Persian  king 
watched  the  emulous  efforts  of  the  various  maritime  nations 
united  beneath  his  sway  as  one  observing  a  spectacle,  the 
leader  of  the  Greeks,  straining  all  the  resources  of  his  genius 
and  his  skill,  and  profiting  by  every  advantage,  commanded 
in  person  a  people  whose  whole  future  depended  upon  the 
victory  of  the  hour.  The  different  squadrons  of  the  Persian 
fleet  were  incapable  of  concerted  action.  Upon  the  firet  un- 
expected success  of  the  Greeks  they  fell  into  disorder  and 
confasion.  Artemisia,  Queen  of  Halicarnassus,  who  was  serv- 
ing under  the  Persians,  ran  into  and  sunk  a  ship  belonging  to 

•  The  presence  of  Xerxes  is  mentioned  by  Herodotus  (viii.  00)  and  by 
Plutorch  (Themistocles,  c.  18). 


SALAMIS.  175 

them  in  order  to  secure  her  own  safety.  Whilst  the  Persian 
ships  were  retiring  from  the  struggle  with  the  Athenians  they 
were  intercepted,  and  some  of  them  captured,  by  the  vessels 
of  the  ^ginetans,  who  now  in  the  general  peril  had  come  to 
the  support  of  the  Athenians,  and  exchanged  their  old  jeal- 
ousy for  honorable  emulation.  The  demeanor  of  Xerxes  as 
he  sat  upon  his  throne,  his  astonishment,  his  horror,  his  de- 
spair, are  incidents  of  capital  importance  in  the  epic  story  of 
Herodotus.  The  success  of  his  whole  undertaking  depended, 
in  fact,  upon  success  in  a  naval  engagement.  He  was  now 
conscious  that  he  was  defeated,  but  if  his  fleet  lost  the  com- 
mand of  the  sea  even  his  return  was  imperilled,  and  with  it 
the  stability  of  the  whole  empire.*  How  great  was  the  anx- 
iety for  the  king's  safe  return  is  evidenced  by  the  story  that, 
in  the  overladen  ship  which  was  conveying  him  past  the  north- 
ern gulfs  of  the  ^gean  Sea,  he  fancied  himself  in  personal 
danger,  but  had  only  to  say  that  now  he  should  see  who  loved 
him,  when  a  number  of  Persians  at  once  flung  themselves  into 
the  sea  to  secure  their  sovereign's  life. 

Whilst  the  Persians  thus  showed  how  closely  their  internal 
organization  and  foreign  dominion  were  bound  up  in  the  life 
of  the  king,  as  a  necessary  factor  in  their  own  existence,  the 
Greeks,  on  their  part,  did  nothing  to  endanger  his  personal 
safety  or  prevent  his  return.  On  the  other  hand,  with  a  loyal 
attachment  to  their  gods,  they  did  not  doubt  that  they  would 
avenge  on  the  Persians  the  injuries  they  had  inflicted  on  their 
temples  and  their  religious  rites.  Nevertheless,  this  did  not 
tempt  them  to  form  plans  of  attack,  such  as  those  which  had 
formerly  been  amongst  the  dreams  of  Aristagoras.  But  they 
had  now,  as  they  thought,  certain  evidence  that  the  gods  were 

*  The  battle  of  Salamis  falls  in  the  archonship  of  Calliades  (Marinor 
Parium,  ep.  51 ;  cf.  Herod,  viii.  51),  480  B.C.  As  to  the  day  of  the  battle, 
Plutarch  gives  several  discordant  dates,  of  which  only  that  under  Ca- 
millus,  c.  19,  can  be  harmonized  with  the  narrative  of  Herodotus.  Ideler 
("  Handbuch  der  mathematischen  und  technischen  Chronologic,"  i.  p. 
309)  cannot  make  up  his  mind  between  September  23 — the  day  adopted 
by  Petavius — and  October  20,  preferred  by  Dodwell.  Bockh  ("  Zur  Ge- 
schichte  der  Mondcycleu  bei  den  Hellenen,"  p.  74)  assigns  the  battle  to 
September  20. 


176  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

not  minded  to  see  Asia  and  Europe  united  under  one  ruler — in 
other  words,  that  the  gods  had  not  appointed  Hellas  to  form 
a  portion  of  the  Persian  empire.  The  task  immediately  before 
them  was,  accordingly,  to  compel  the  retreat  of  the  Persians 
who  were  still  encamped  on  Grecian  soil.  In  the  ensuing 
summer  we  see  the  two  fleets  lying  opposite  to  each  other, 
the  Persians  near  Samos,  the  Greeks  near  Delos,  without, 
however,  joining  battle.  Everything  depended  upon  the  issue 
of  the  struggle  by  land.  Mardonius,  who  had  conducted  the 
first  expedition,  and  had  made  preparations  for  the  second, 
had  no  intention  of  giving  way.  He  still  felt  confident  of 
bringing  about  a  decision  in  favor  of  the  Persians ;  he  de- 
signed even  to  bring  the  Athenians  over  to  his  side  by  restor- 
ing their  land  and  recognizing  their  independence.  In  this 
be  completely  misconstrued  the  temper  which  his  attacks 
had  aroused  in  the  people  of  Attica.  Only  one  man,  named 
Lykidas,  was  found  in  Salamis  to  advise  submitting  these  pro- 
posals to  the  people.  The  mere  thought  was  enough  to  ex- 
cite the  fury  of  the  multitude.  Lykidas  was  stoned  by  the 
people,  and  as,  when  the  traitor  was  stoned  at  Jericho,  all  his 
house  had  to  expiate  his  offence,  so  now  the  Athenian  women 
stoned  the  wife  and  children  of  the  obnoxious  person.  Who- 
ever took  part  in  a  trespass  against  the  gods  of  tlie  country 
was  to  be  wiped  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

It  is  well  known  that  all  the  Greeks  did  not  share  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  Athenians.  A  number  of  the  Greek  pop- 
ulations were  still  ranged  on  tlie  side  of  the  Medo-Persians. 
But  now  Lakedaemon  roused  lierself  in  support  of  Athens. 
The  republics  so  fundamentally  opposed  to  each  other,  the 
Demos  of  the  Spartiatae  and  the  Demos  of  Athens,  made  com- 
mon cause.  The  danger  was  still  pressing.  Mardonius  had 
quitted  Attica  because  it  offered  no  ground  suitable  for  his 
cavalry.  The  Athenians  had  already  returned  in  great  num- 
bers. They  marshalled  their  forces  to  the  number  of  8000 
heavy-armed  men  at  Eleusis.  They  would  scarcely  have  been 
able  to  defend  themselves  against  a  renewed  invasion,  and 
probably  they  would  have  been  ruined,  if  the  Spartans  had 
not  brought  the  power  of  Peloponnesus  to  their  support. 
On  a  former  occasion,  when  the  Spartans  lind  in  view  the 


PLAT^A.  177 

conquest  of  Athens,  it  was  at  Eleusis  that  tlie  Peloponnesians 
had  separated  from  them.  Now,  when  the  general  freedom 
was  at  stake,  they  came  to  their  aid ;  to  this  extent,  at  any 
rate,  the  idea  of  Panhellenism  had  infused  itself  into  their 
political  life.  Corinth  set  5000  men  in  the  field,  Sikyon  and 
Megara  3000  men  each ;  small  contingents  presented  them- 
selves from  ^gina,  the  Arcadian  towns,  and  the  shores  and 
plains  in  the  neighborhood.  The  5000  Spartiatae,  led  by 
their  king,  Pausanias,  the  guardian  of  the  young  son  left  by 
Leonidas,  were  each  attended  b}^  seven  helots.  They  were 
joined  by  an  equal  force  of  the  Periceki,  heavily  armed.  All 
ranks  of  the  population,  the  rulers,  the  ruled,  the  freemen, 
were  united.  The  number  of  the  whole  army  is  reckoned  at 
more  than  100,000  men ;  but  it  was  absolutely  without  cav- 
alry, whereas  it  was  in  their  cavalry  that  the  strengtli  of  the 
Persians  chiefly  consisted.  The  eye  surveys  a  strange  scene  as 
it  glances  now  at  the  Greeks,  whose  varieties  of  aspect  marked 
the  different  localities  from  which  they  were  gathered,  and 
now  at  the  host  of  Asiatics  by  whom  they  were  confronted. 

Mardonius  had  under  him  not  only  Persians,  but  Medes, 
the  principal  representatives  of  the  ancient  Iran,  Bactrians, 
even  Indians  of  kindred  stock,  and  finally  some  Scythian 
troops,  the  Sakse.  These  he  ranged  opposite  to  the  Lakedae- 
monians  and  their  Dorian  allies ;  to  the  Athenians,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  opposed  the  Greeks  who  liad  come  over  to 
his  side,  the  Boeotians,  Locrians,  Phokians,  and  Thessalians. 
The  shock  of  the  two  armies  took  place  in  the  marches  of 
the  Platoean  territory.  It  promised,  one  might  suppose,  to  be 
a  battle  of  the  two  nations  in  the  grand  style.  Yet  it  did 
not,  in  fact,  prove  to  be  so.  Mardonius  was  indisputably  the 
better  prepared.  His  cavalry,  which  had  sustained  some  few 
losses,  but  had  not  been  materially  weakened,  prevented  tlie 
conveyance  of  provisions  over  Mount  Kithseron,  and  even  cut 
off  the  Greeks  from  the  water  of  the  Asopus.  A  spring  which 
supplied  them  ceased  to  run,  and  they  saw  themselves  com- 
pelled to  look  out  for  another  position.  At  the  very  crisis 
of  this  dangerous  movement  they  were  attacked  by  the 
Persians.  There  was  every  probability  that  they  would  bo 
defeated,  especially  since  even  at  this  juncture  they  were  lit- 

12 


178  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

tie  subservient  to  command,  and  each  troop  acted  without 
concert  and  according  to  its  own  inclination.  Mardonius  had 
once  ere  this  proposed  to  the  Lakedaemonians  to  bring  the 
great  struggle  between  barbarians  and  Greeks  to  a  decision 
by  a  kind  of  duel  between  champions  selected  from  the 
flower  of  the  Spartan  and  Persian  warriors.  No  answer  had 
been  returned  to  this  suggestion,  but  the  course  of  events 
brought  about  something  which  resembled  it.  When  the 
cavalry  had  desisted  from  the  pursuit,  the  best-disciplined  of 
the  Persian  troops  advanced  to  fight  out  their  quarrel  with 
the  Spartans,  the  flower  of  the  Greek  army.  Then,  however, 
was  manifested  the  great  distinction  between  barbarians  and 
Hellenes.  The  former  could,  indeed,  employ  their  offensive 
weapons  with  skill,  but  they  had  no  defensive  armor.  Throw- 
ing themselves  upon  the  Spartans  in  small  companies  of  ten 
men  each,  they  were  crushed  at  all  points,  and  had  to  abandon 
the  struggle.  Mardonius,  whose  presence  was  recognized 
through  the  white  horse  on  which  he  rode,  fell,  mortally 
wounded,  at  the  same  time.  His  death  caused  a  general  dis- 
couragement among  the  Persians.  They  hastened  back  to 
their  camp,  which  was  not  adequately  fortified.  It  is  strange 
that  in  both  battles  minor  incidents — the  rapid  advance  of 
the  Athenians  at  Marathon,  the  resolute  stand  made  by  the 
Spartans  at  Plataea — were  decisive  of  the  issue.  The  Persian 
camp  yielded  to  the  attack  of  the  Greeks,  among  whom  this 
time  the  Athenians  once  more  bore  off  the  palm  by  their 
readiness  of  resource.  A  hideous  massacre  annihilated  the 
army  which  had  been  designed  for  the  conquest  of  Greece. 
One  detachment,  indeed,  led  by  a  Persian,  had  taken  no  part 
in  the  battle.  They  retreated  in  haste,  owing  their  freedom 
from  molestation  to  the  fact  that  the  news  of  the  defeat  had 
not  yet  spread,  and  went  first  into  Thrace  and  next  to  Byzan- 
tium, whence  vessels  conveyed  them  over  into  Asia. 

Tlie  enterprise  owed  its  conception  to  Mardonius,  who 
perished  in  the  course  of  it.  Two  brief  encounters  by  sea 
and  by  land  had  sufliccd  to  frustrate  the  attempts  of  the  Per- 
sians to  obtain  a  foothold  in  Europe  and  subdue  Hellas.  To 
appreciate  the  contrast  between  the  contending  powers  it  is 
sutflcicnt  to  call  to  mind  the  proposal  made  to  the  Spartan 


MYCALE. 

king,  Pausanias,  to  avenge  Leonidas,  whose  bod^^b^^i)eeii 
impaled  by  the  Persians,  by  treating  the  corpse  of  Mardonius 
in  the  same  manner.  Pausanias  rejected  the  proposition  as 
an  outrage,  and  forbade  its  renewal ;  it  was  worthy,  he  said, 
of  a  barbarian,  not  of  a  Greek.  A  whole  world  of  reflections 
is  suggested  by  this  refusal.  The  contrast  between  East  and 
"West  is  expressed  by  it  in  characters  which  were  destined  to 
be  distinctive  of  their  subsequent  history. 

At  the  same  moment  that  the  Persian  power  was  over- 
thrown in  Hellas  the  supremacy  of  the  Hellenes  in  the 
-^gean  Sea  became  a  reality..  The  occurrence  of  both  bat- 
tles on  the  same  day,  and  the  apparently  miraculous  transmis- 
sion of  the  news  of  the  victory  at  Plataea  to  the  shores  of 
Ionia,  may  raise  questions  which  we  prefer  to  leave  open. 
Yet  it  is  obvious  that  both  events  were  homogeneous  in  the  im- 
pulses from  which  they  sprang  and  the  consequences  to  which 
they  led.  The  Persian  fleet  left  its  station  at  Samos,  prob- 
ably because  it  had  become  evident  that  no  reliance  could  bo 
placed  on  the  lonians,  in  whose  shipping  the  maritime  strength 
of  the  Persians  consisted.  The  Phoenicians  entirely  gave  up 
their  share  in  the  struggle  and  sailed  homewards.  To  save 
the  rest  of  the  ships  there  seemed  to  be  no  other  course  open 
but  to  draw  them  up  on  the  shore  and  to  secure  them  against 
hostile  attack  by  means  of  a  rampart.  Thus  the  crews  of  the 
vessels  fought  with  each  other  upon  land,  the  scene  of  action 
being  the  promontory  of  Mycale.  Here,  again,  the  superior 
skill  of  the  Greeks  prevailed  over  the  valor  of  the  Persians. 
The  question  is  said  to  have  been  discussed  whether  the 
lonians  who  had  been  faithful  to  the  Hellenic  cause  might 
not  be  transplanted  once  more  to  their  native  soil,  and  placed 
in  possession  of  the  districts  of  those  tribes  who  had  sympa- 
thized with  Persia;  but  such  a  transference  was  an  under- 
taking of  too  wide  a  scope  to  be  attempted.  All  that  was 
finally  achieved  was  the  admission  of  the  most  important  isl- 
ands, Lesbos,  Chios,  and  Samos,  into  the  Symmachia,  or  war- 
like confederacy  of  the  Hellenes.  The  islanders  took  a  solemn 
vow  not  to  desert  that  alliance.  This  of  itself  was  a  success 
of  even  greater  moment  for  the  future  than  for  the  present. 
But  the  integrity  of  the  Persian  empire  was  undisturbed. 


180  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

The  invasion  of  Greece  by  the  Persians  must  be  placed  in 
the  same  category  with  their  undertakings  against  the  Massa- 
getoe,  the  Ethiopians,  and  the  nomad  Scythians,  all  being  at- 
tempts to  extend  the  empire  beyond  its  natural  limits.  In 
the  other  countries  on  the  Persian  frontier  the  resistance  was 
only  passive;  in  Greece  it  took  the  extremely  active  form 
which  henceforward  characterized  it  throughout. 

For  the  immediate  present,  however,  that  active  opposition 
was  impeded,  or  rather  interrupted,  by  internal  divisions.  As 
a  rule  a  w^ar  marked  by  great  events  is  succeeded  by  civil  dis- 
turbances even  in  the  states  which  have  issued  victorious 
from  the  struggle.  This  was  the  case  after  the  Persian  war 
even  in  Sparta,  secured  though  she  w^as  by  her  rigorous  legal 
system.  It  was  obviously  inconsistent  to  intrust  the  kings 
with  the  conduct  of  the  army,  uncontrolled  as  yet  by  the 
presence  of  an  aristocratic  council,*  and,  after  they  had  grown 
accustomed  to  universal  obedience,  and  had  returned  with 
the  glory  earned  by  great  achievements,  to  attempt  to  subject 
them  to  the  rigorous  censorship  of  the  Ephors.  It  may  easily 
be  conceived  that  the  two  Spartan  kings  who  had  rendered 
the  greatest  service  to  the  common  cause,  Pausanias  by  land, 
Leotychides  at  the  head  of  the  naval  force,  declined  to  sub- 
mit after  their  return  to  the  laws  by  which  their  power  was 
fettered.  They  were  compelled,  first  the  one  and  then  the 
other,  to  go  into  exile.  Leotychides  took  refuge  with  the 
Arcadians,!  who  were  independent  members  of  the  league; 
Pausanias  retired  to  Byzantium,  where  his  proximity  to  the 
Persian  frontier  gave  him  a  certain  independence,  so  much  so 
that  he  incurred  the  suspicion  of  desiring  to  ally  himself  with 
the  king  of  Persia.  The  Spartiata3  required  Pausanias  to  re- 
turn, and  threatened  to  wage  war  upon  him  if  he  refused. 

The  opposition  of  the  kings  to  the  aristocracy  went  hand 
in  hand  with  a  movement  among  their  subjects,  who  also  had 

♦According  to  Thuk.  v.  03,  the  law,  in  virtue  of  whicli  ten  avfifiovXoi 
were  assigned  to  the  king,  was  not  enacted  till  the  year  418. 

t  Leotychides  was  accused  of  treason  to  the  state ;  it  was  alleged  that 
ho  might  have  conquered  all  Thcssaly,  but  had  allowed  himself  to  bo 
bribed,  and  was  caught  in  the  fact  (It'  avro^wpiit  u\oi>()  with  his  hand 
ftOl  of  silver  (Herod,  vi.  72). 


PAUSANIAS.  181 

taken  part  in  the  war ;  and  it  would  seem  as  if  the  kings  had 
designed  to  set  themselves  at  their  head  and  deliver  them- 
selves from  the  fetters  of  the  aristocracy.  But  the  latter  had 
grown  too  powerful  to  be  displaced.  The  victor  of  Platsea, 
who  had  obeyed  the  injunction  to  return,  came  to  a  miserable 
end.  Religious  scruples  forbade  his  enemies  to  slay  him  in 
the  sanctuary  in  which  he  had  sought  asylum,  or  to  drag  him 
away  by  force,  but  they  removed  the  roof  and  sealed  the  door. 
They  kept  him  prisoner  thus  until  he  was  exhausted  by  hun- 
ger, and  only  dragged  him  forth  when  he  was  breathing  his 
last.*  Leotychides  was  too  cautious  to  return,  and  died  at 
Tegea.  But  the  death  of  Pausanias  was  closely  connected 
with  an  insurrection  of  the  helots  and  a  revolt  of  the  Messe- 
nians,  while  the  flight  of  Leotychides  to  Tegea  is  associated 
with  a  war  with  Arcadia  and  Argos.  This  war  was  only 
brought  to  a  close  after  two  great  battles,  whilst  the  helots 
were  not  suppressed  without  a  similar  effort.  We  here  ob- 
tain a  glance  into  a  world  in  ferment,  where  the  monarchy, 
in  its  effort  for  independence,  makes  common  cause  with  the 
insubordinate  members  of  the  league  and  their  own  revolted 
subjects.  It  was  only  by  the  severest  struggles  that  the  aris- 
tocracy prevailed.  They  were  even  compelled,  in  order  to 
subdue  the  Messenians,  to  invoke  the  assistance  of  the  Athe- 
nians, although  the  latter  regarded  the  Messenians  as  of  kin- 
dred stock  with  themselves. 

Ferments  still  more  violent  had  broken  out  in  the  Athe- 
nian commonwealth.  Heads  of  the  state  are  equally  indis- 
pensable to  republics,  whether  democratic  or  oligarchical,  and 
yet  are  equally  intolerable  to  either.  The  Athenians  had  for 
a  while  followed  with  blind  acquiescence  the  guidance  of 
Themistocles.  Thukydides  admires  in  Themistocles  that 
prompt  intuition  which  made  it  possible  for  him  to  hit  upon 
the  best  expedient  in  pressing  difficulties,  and  even  to  pene- 
trate the  secrets  of  the  future.  If  we  understand  him  ari£:ht 
be  ascribes  to  him  the  perfection  of  a  healthy  common-sense 


*  Pausanias  is  instanced  by  Aristotle  ("Pol."  v.  6, 2=:p.  208, 2  Bekker)  to 
illustrate  the  words  lav  ug  nsyag  y  kuI  ^vvdfiEvog  in  fieiZu)v  elvai,  'iva  jiovap- 
Xy,  and  is  compared  with  Hanno  of  Carthage. 


182  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

ready  to  meet  every  crisis,  without  the  need  of  previous  de- 
liberation or  discipline.  He  rendered  an  inestimable  service 
to  Greece  and  to  the  world  by  concentrating  all  the  power  of 
Athens  in  her  maritime  life,  and  leading  her  to  her  goal  by 
his  energ}^  and  finesse.  But  in  this  his  design  was  directed 
not  only  against  the  Medo-Persians,  but  also  against  the  Lake- 
doemonians,  the  most  important  members  of  the  Greek  con- 
federacy. It  was  due  to  liim  that  the  walls  of  Athens  were 
rebuilt,  against  the  wish  of  the  Spartans.  Themistoclcs  threw 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  negotiations,  and  purposely  de- 
layed them  until  the  work  had  advanced  too  far  to  be  broken 
off.  A  model  for  all  succeeding  Athenian  statesmen,  he  did 
not  forget,  whilst  repelling  the  Medo-Persian  invasion,  to  op- 
pose the  preponderance  of  Sparta.  The  exclusion  of  the  cities 
which  had  displayed  Median  sympathies  from  the  Amphicty- 
onic  council  was  prevented  by  him,  because  it  would  have 
turned  the  balance  of  power  by  land  in  favor  of  the  Spartans. 

Another  of  his  services  was  the  fortification  of  the  Peirseus. 
This  harbor,  the  finest  in  Greece,  two  miles  in  circuit,  and  as 
much  as  twenty  fathoms  deep,  is  well  protected  from  the 
winds,  and  offers  good  anchorage.  Perhaps  those  mighty 
foundation  walls,  which  are  still  to  be  seen  jutting  out  from 
the  promontory  which  forms  the  entrance,  across  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor,  are  to  be  assigned  to  his  epoch  and  to  his  hand. 

In  the  midst  of  his  achievements  he  indulged  a  keen  sense 
of  his  personal  merit.  It  is  a  saying  ascribed  to  him  by  tra- 
dition that  he  did  not  know  how  to  tune  a  lyre,  but  could 
turn  an  insignificant  state  into  a  great  one.  On  the  floating 
corpses  of  those  slain  in  the  naval  engagement  were  to  bo 
seen  golden  chains  and  other  ornaments.  "  Gather  these  \x^J\ 
said  lie  to  his  attendant,  "for  thou  art  not  Themistoclcs." 
To  efface  his  own  personality  in  the  true  republican  spirit 
was  not  in  his  nature.  He  willingly  bore  the  expense  of 
tragic  contests,  but  he  claimed  that  the  records  of  these  should 
be  inscribed  with  his  name.  He  was  ostentatious,  insolent, 
and  even  cruel,  and  loved  splendor  even  more  than  ho  loved 
authority.  Themistoclcs  belongs  to  that  class  of  politicians 
who  never  at  any  time  regard  themselves  as  bound  by  previ- 
ous stipulations,  but  consider  all  means  permissible  which  con- 


THEMISTOCLES.  183 

duce  to  their  end.  A  nature  such  as  his,  whose  conduct  under 
all  conditions  obeyed  the  impulse  of  an  ambitious  spirit,  could 
only  find  a  place  in  a  democratic  republic  so  long  as  great 
emergencies  made  it  indispensable. 

Tlie  ingenious  expedient  employed  in  the  Athenian  re- 
public, of  banishing  by  ostracism  individuals  whose  grow- 
ing power  endangered  political  equalit}^  was  directed  against 
Themistocles.*  Sparta,  no  less  than  Athens,  found  him  in- 
supportable. In  the  proceedings  against  Pausanias  circum- 
stances were  brought  to  light  which  justified  the  reproach 
that  he  had  known  and  concealed  the  designs  of  the  Spartan 
king.  Sparta  and  Athens  took  steps  in  concert  to  arrest  the 
victor  of  Salamis  for  having  made  a  compact  with  the  enemy 
whom  he  had  then  repulsed.  Themistocles  withdrew  from 
Argos,  where  he  was  sojourning,  to  Korkyra,  and  then  to  Ad- 
metus,  king  of  the  Molossians,  in  whom  he  feared  to  find  an 
enemy,  having  formerly  advised  the  rejection  of  a  request 
preferred  by  him  at  Athens.  The  suppliant  was  admitted  to 
protection,  but  could  not  tarry  there  long.  He  had  a  hun- 
dred talents  with  him,  the  Great  King  liad  set  another  two 
hundred  upon  his  head,  and  to  a  pirate  he  would  have  proved 
a  rich  prize.  Themistocles  nevertheless  passed  safely  to  Eph- 
esus,  from  which,  conducted  by  a  Persian,  he  penetrated  into 
the  heart  of  the  empire,  and  at  last  reached  the  Persian  court 
to  seek  safety  with  the  enemy  whom  he  had  driven  out  of 
Greece.  He  was  received,  not  as  an  enemy,  but  as  a  friend. 
Three  important  cities  were  assigned  him  for  his  maintenance, 
in  the  chief  of  which,  Magnesia,  his  grave  was  shown  in  later 
times. 

•  We  are  reluctantly  compelled  to  reject  the  accounts  of 
later  historians,  according  to  which  the  king  to  whom  The- 
mistocles made  his  escape  was  Xerxes,  who  is  said  to  have  con- 
templated sending  into  the  field  against  the  Greeks  the  man 

*  Diodorus  (xi.  54)  assigns  the  ostracism  of  Themistocles  to  the  arch- 
onship  of  Praxiergus,  01.  75,  2=471-470  b.c.  With  this  agrees  the  date 
in  Cornelius  Nepos  ("  Aristides,"  c.  3), "  Aristides  decessit  fere  post  an- 
num quartum  quam  Themistocles  Athenis  erat  expulsus,"  Aristeides 
lived  to  witness  the  representation  of  JEschylus's  "(Edipodeia"  (Plutarch, 
"Aristides,"  c.  3),  which  took  place  01.  78, 1=457  b.c. 


184  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

by  whom  he  had  been  defeated.*  Tliemistocles,  it  is  said, 
could  not  bring  himself  to  consent  to  such  a  proposal,  and  at 
a  banquet  with  his  friends  he*  offered  sacrifice  to  the  gods  and 
then  slew  himself.  But  the  story  indicates  the  light  in  which 
Themistocles  was  regarded  by  the  generation  which  succeed- 
ed him. 

The  essential  feature  in  the  accounts  given  of  the  fate  of 
Pausanias  and  Themistocles,  apart  from  the  fabulous  touches 
added  by  tradition,  is  that  both  the  generals  to  whom  the  suc- 
cessful issue  of  the  war  against  the  Persians  was  principally 
due  soon  afterwards  fell  into  disfavor  with  the  communities 
to  which  they  belonged.  Pausanias  was  destroyed  by  the 
Gerusia.  Themistocles  took  refuge  with  the  Persians,  who 
gave  him  their  protection,  after  which  he  disappears.  Pos- 
terity has  not  been  able  to  recall  the  living  image  of  Pausa- 
nias, but  we  know  more  of  Themistocles.  He  is  perhaps  the 
first  man  who  appears  upon  the  scene  of  universal  history  as 
a  creature  of  flesh  and  blood,  playing  a  part  at  times  the  re- 
verse of  praiseworthy,  yet  always  great.  Amid  the  clash  of 
the  great  forces  of  the  world  his  will  was  to  rule  and  never  to 
be  ruled,  but  those  forces  were  too  strong  for  him,  and  he 
was  overwhelmed  by  them.  Yet  while  the  worker  succumbed, 
his  work  survived  the  storm  and  lived  for  centuries.  The- 
mistocles is  the  founder  of  the  historical  greatness  of  Athens. 

To  return  to  the  war  between  Hellenes  and  Persians,  it  is 
clear  from  this  example  that  the  Great  King  had  but  little  to 

*  According  to  the  tradition  of  Ephorus,  Deinon,  Cicitarchus,  Hera- 
cleides  (Plutarch,  "  Themist."  27),  Xerxes  was  then  still  alive.  On  the 
other  hand,  Thukydides  makes  Themistocles  arrive  in  Persia  in  the  reign  ^ 
of  Artaxerxes.  Plutarch  has  attempted  to  combine  the  two  accounts, 
and  thus  has  imparted  to  the  first  and  original  account  an  entirely 
fabulous  aspect.  The  account  as  it  appears  in  Plutarch  presupposes  a 
state  of  tranquillity  such  as,  after  the  murder  of  Xerxes  by  Artabanus, 
who  even  seems  to  have  introduced  an  interregnum,  is  not  probable. 
The  tradition  here  has  traits  of  a  fabulous  nature.  In  Diodorus  (xi.  c. 
68)  the  legend  appears  less  overladen  with  imaginary  details  than  else- 
where. The  main  statement  rests  upon  historical  grounds,  as  is  proved 
by  two  extant  coins  which  Themistocles  caused  to  be  coined  in  Mag- 
nesia after  the  Attic  standard  (cf.  Brandis,  "  Das  Munz,  Mass-  und  Gc- 
wichtswcscn  in  Vordcrasicn,"  pp.  827, 459). 


WAR  WITH  PERSIA.  185 

fear  in  the  way  of  reprisals  from  his  enemies  in  the  West.  It 
was  improbable  that  in  either  the  aristocratic  or  democratic 
republic,  or  in  the  Greek  community  at  large,  any  power  or 
any  individual  would  arise  likely  to  prove  dangerous  to  him- 
self. It  is,  moreover,  an  error  to  ascribe  to  the  Greeks  de- 
signs of  this  kind.  The  overthrow  of  the  Persian  monarchy, 
which  rested  on  political  conditions  totally  dissimilar  to  their 
own,  they  could  not  have  projected.  But  they  contemplated 
and  seriously  undertook  the  restoration  of  that  state  of  things 
which  had  preceded  the  attacks  of  Persia.  They  were  un- 
ceasing in  their  efforts  to  expel  the  Persians  from  Thrace,  to 
give  freedom  to  the  cities  on  the  Asiatic  coast,  to  recover 
their  naval  supremacy  in  the  eastern  Mediterranean,  to  sever 
Cyprus,  and  perhaps  even  Egypt,  once  more  from  the  great 
monarchy.  Even  for  this  object,  no  voluntary  combination 
of  all  the  Hellenes,  not  even  so  much  as  concerted  action  be- 
tween Sparta  and  Athens,  was  to  be  expected,  for,  as  we  have 
said,  in  Sparta  the  paramount  influence  which  a  successful 
general  might  bring  to  bear  upon  the  domestic  condition  of 
their  republic  was  an  object  of  dread.  The  Spartans  had  no 
real  objection  to  allowing  Athens  to  take  the  lead  in  the  con- 
flicts with  Persia,  a  position  which  seemed  to  be  justified  by 
the  growth  of  her  maritime  power.* 

Sparta  connived  at  the  formation  of  that  maritime  confed- 
eracy in  which  the  islands  and  seaports  which  were  menaced 
by  the  Persians  attached  themselves  to  Athens,  who  con- 
tented herself  in  return  with  moderate  contributions,  without 
limiting  the  autonomy  of  her  allies  in  home  affairs.  This  is 
the  Delian  League,  of  the  progress  of  which  we  shall  soon 
have  more  to  say.  The  two  great  men,  Aristeides,  alternate- 
ly the  friend  and  the  opponent  of  Themistocles,  and  Kimon, 
the  son  of  the  victor  of  Marathon,  acted  here  in  concert,  the 

*  Demosthenes  in  his  third  Philippic  (iii.  c.  23,  p.  116)  fixes  the  dura- 
tion of  the  Athenian  liegemony  at  seventy-three  years  {Trpocrdrai  /xtv 
vfiiig  tl5do^{]KOVTa  trrj  Kai  rpia  lysvtaOe,  Trpoordrai  de  xpiaKOvra  evbg  isovra 
AaKidaifiovioi).  If  we  count  from  the  end  (01.  93,  4=404  B.C.)  of  the 
Peloponuesian  war,  01.  75, 4=477  B.C.  appears  to  be  the  date  of  the  com- 
mencement of  the  hegemony  of  the  Athenians,  and  with  this  Diodorus 
agrees,  who  places  it  (xi.  44)  in  the  archonship  of  Adeimantus. 


186  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

first  in  negotiation,  the  second  in  resolute  and  successful  en- 
terprises. At  first  Kimon  directed  his  efforts  to  the  north, 
where  he  could  combine  the  advantage  of  the  state  with  that 
private  family  interest  of  which  we  have  spoken  above.  On 
the  Strymon  he  attacked  the  Persians,  by  whom  the  Athe- 
nians had  been  expelled  from  those  regions,  and  subdued  them 
with  the  assistance  of  the  surrounding  tribes.  The  Persian 
general  burned  himself,  like  Sardanapalus,  in  the  midst  of  his 
treasures.  The  Chersonese  fell  into  Kimon's  hands  after  a 
struggle  with  the  Persians  and  their  allies  the  Thracians. 
The  conquered  districts  were  portioned  out  to  colonists  from 
Athens. 

His  next  step,  an  invitation  to  the  Greek  cities  on  the 
shores  of  Asia  to  recover  their  freedom,  could  not  be  attended 
by  any  marked  success  as  long  as  the  combined  naval  forces 
of  Persia  and  Phoenicia  were  paramount  in  the  eastern  Medi- 
terranean. Accordingly,  it  was  against  this  supremacy  that 
the  chief  efforts  of  Athens  and  her  allies  were  directed. 
Kimon,  at  the  head  of  a  squadron  of  200  sail,  undertook  an 
expedition  designed  to  support  the  Greek  cities  on  the  south- 
era  coast  of  Asia  Minor  in  their  struggle  for  emancipation, 
and  to  expel  the  Persian  garrisons  still  to  be  found  there. 
By  persuasion  and  force  he  succeeded  in  his  object  in  the 
districts  of  Caria,  but  the  Persians  resolved  to  bar  his  farther 
progress,  and  sent,  as  their  practice  was,  a  combined  naval  and 
military  armament  against  him.*  Kimon  first  attacked  the 
fleet,  and  the  superiority  of  the  Greeks  to  the  Phoenicians 
was  once  more  made  manifest.  A  hundred  vessels  with  their 
crews  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Greeks,  who  also  captured 
many  others  which  had  been  abandoned.  The  latter  Kimon 
now  employed,  if  we  may  believe  the  account  currently  ac- 

*  We  may  regard  Diodorus  as  a  trustworthy  authority  here,  since  Plu- 
tarch ("Cimon,"  c.  11)  ascribes  to  Ephorus  exactly  the  same  details  as 
are  found  in  Diodorus.  Accordingly,  we  may  take  it  as  certain  that 
here,  at  any  rate,  Diodorus  had  Ephorus  before  lum.  Plutarch  quotes 
two  other  historians,  Callisthenes  and  Phanodcmus,  who  vary  from 
Ephorus.  The  name  of  the  Persian  commander  as  given  by  Callisthenes  is 
not  the  same  as  that  in  Diodorus,  whilst  the  number  of  the  Athenian 
ships  is  differently  given  by  Phanodemus. 


KIMON.  187 

cepted,  in  the  execution  of  a  most  successful  stratagem.  It  is 
said  that  he  manned  the  empty  vessels  in  his  turn,  disguising 
his  people  in  Persian  clothes,  of  which  a  large  supply  had 
come  into  his  possession.  In  this  way  he  surprised  at  night 
the  Persian  camp  by  the  Eurymedon,  where  the  approaching 
fleet  was  awaited  as  a  friendly  one,  attacked  it  at  once,  and, 
profiting  by  tlie  confusion,  overpowered  it.  Kimon,  whose 
presence  of  mind  did  not  desert  him  in  the  hour  of  victory, 
was  careful  to  prevent  his  troops  from  separating  in  quest  of 
plunder,  and  recalled  them  by  a  prearranged  fire-signal,  which 
they  obeyed  even  in  the  heat  of  pursuit.  After  this  they 
erected  a  trophy.  Thus  a  double  victory  was  won  on  the 
same  day  by  land  and  sea.* 

1^0  sooner  was  the  naval  superiority  of  the  Greeks  thus 
demonstrated,  than  the  prospect  was  opened  up  to  them  of 
bringing  their  power  to  bear  upon  Egypt,  a  country  in  whose 
concerns  they  had  already  interfered. 

Xerxes,  whom  fate  had  spared  to  experience  the  further 
defeat  at  the  Eurymedon,  was  slain  in  the  following  ycarf — 
an  episode  often  repeated  in  the  case  of  despotic  governments 
in  ancient  and  modern  times,  even  among  the  Romans  in  the 
epoch  of  the  Empire.  He  was  the  victim  of  a  conspiracy 
among  the  men  in  whom  he  chiefly  placed  confidence,  Arta- 
banus,  the  commander  of  his  body-guard,  and  the  high  cham- 
berlain, who  controlled  the  palace.  The  conspiracy,  however, 
aimed  at  more  than  his  death.  In  Xerxes  were  united  the 
two  lines  of  the  Achaemenidae.  It  was  the  design  of  the  as- 
sassins absolutely  to  put  an  end  to  the  dominion  of  this  race. 

*The  battle  of  tbe  Eurymedon  is  assigned  by  Clinton  to  466,  by  Grote 
to  465.  It  is  in  favor  of  the  latter  of  these  assumed  dates  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  account  in  Thukydides,  Themistocles,  in  his  flight  to  Asia — 
•which,  according  to  the  historian's  account,  falls  in  the  year  465  (i.  137, 
tcTTTE/iTTEi  ypajXjiaTa  dg  fiaaiKta  'ApTu^kp^tjv  tov  JSip^oy,  veojffri  (iaaCKivovra) — 
found  the  Athenian  fleet  engaged  in  tlie  blockade  of  Naxos  (i.  137),  and 
immediately  upon  this,  or  at  the  same  moment,  followed  the  battle  at 
the  Eurymedon  (i.  98,  etc.).  We  have  taken  account  of  the  year  above, 
in  fixing  the  date  of  the  death  of  Aristagoras. 

t  The  statement  of  Diodorus  that  Artaxerxes  himself  laid  violent  hands 
on  his  elder  brother  Darius  cannot  be  maintained,  being  contradicted  by 
the  evidence  of  Aristotle  ("Pol."  v.  c.  10=320, 13  Bekker). 


188  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

If  we  are  not  mistaken,  this  purpose  must  be  associated  with 
the  disasters  to  which  the  policy  of  Darius  and  Xerxes  had 
led.  The  reigning  family  had  lost  its  authority  and  was  to 
be  overthrown.  Artabanus  himself  aspired  to  the  throne,  but 
matters  did  not  come  to  that  pass.  The  elder  of  Xerxes'  sons 
had  shared  the  fate  of  his  father,  but  this  only  stimulated  the 
second  son,  Artaxerxes,  to  a  more  determined  resistance.  The 
tradition  runs  that  he  saved  life  and  throne  in  a  personal  en- 
counter with  Artabanus.  On  this  point  accounts  and  opin- 
ions are  at  variance,  but  we  may  abide  by  the  main  fact  that 
Artaxerxes,  the  second  son  of  Xerxes,  made  the  dominion  of 
the  Achsemenid  secure  for  more  than  a  century.  He  was 
distinguished  by  the  Greeks  from  other  kings  of  the  same 
name  by  an  epithet  which  means  the  Long-handed,  and  was 
derived  from  a  physical  disproportion. 

Artaxerxes  did  not  feel  himself  called  upon  to  extend  the 
empire  and  carry  out  his  father's  projects  of  universal  do- 
minion; his  business  was  simply  to  maintain  and  to  protect 
the  power  which  he  inherited,  and  which,  even  after  the  re- 
cent disasters,  was  still  very  extensive.  The  most  important 
question  was,  accordingly,  how  far  Artaxerxes  would  be  ac- 
knowledged by  the  subject  populations,  which  had  by  no 
means  yet  forgotten  their  old  independence.  Undoubtedly 
the  decline  of  the  naval  power  of  Persia,  in  consequence  of 
the  battle  of  Eurymedon,  contributed  to  make  obedience 
doubtful,  especially  in  Egypt,  a  region  which  still  retained  the 
largest  measure  of  independence.  Inarus,  the  prince  of  a 
Libyan  district  which  had  been  annexed  but  not  brought  to 
complete  subjection,  induced  the  Egyptians  without  much 
difficulty  to  revolt  from  Persia,  and  invoked  the  aid  of  the 
Athenians.*  Their  fleet  happened  to  be  in  Cyprus  at  the 
time,  but  immediately  sailed  for  Egypt,  where  the  Greeks, 
Libyans,  and  revolted  Egyptians  united  their  forces  and  oc- 
cupied the  town  of  Memphis,  with  the  exception  of  its  cita- 
del, which  was  called  the  White  Castle.     Inarus  availed  him- 

♦  According  to  Diodoru8,  xi.  71,  Inarus  promised  the  Athenians  a  share 
in  the  government  of  Egypt  (vmaxvovftevot  avroiQ,  idv  IXivOepwauxn  ro^c 
Aiyvirriovt,  cotv^v  airroXc  irapi^ioBai  n)v  fiaotkiiav). 


THE  ATHENIANS  IN  EGYPT.  189 

self  of  the  wealth  of  corn  in  Egypt  to  establish  his  alliance 
with  Athens  on  a  firmer  basis,  and  sent  considerable  supplies 
across  the  sea.* 

It  is  probable  that  commercial  motives  amongst  others 
prompted  the  building  of  the  Long  Walls,  by  which  the  cita- 
del and  town  of  Athens  were  united  with  the  seaport.  But 
they  were  needed  for  another  reason.  The  misunderstand- 
ings between  Sparta  and  Athens  had  reached  such  a  climax 
that  there  was  reason  to  dread  an  invasion  of  the  Attic  terri- 
tory on  the  part  of  the  Spartans.  We  encounter  here  a  com- 
plication in  the  general  condition  of  public  affairs.  Arta- 
xerxes  is  said  to  have  attempted  to  prevail  upon  the  Spartans 
to  invade  Attica,  hoping,  of  course,  thus  to  relieve  himself  at 
a  single  blow  from  the  hostile  attacks  of  Athens.  Such  an 
alliance  was,  however,  reserved  for  later  times.  At  that  time 
it  would  have  seemed  treasonable,  and  accordingly  the  Spar- 
tans declined  the  Persian  proposals.  Athens  would  indeed 
have  secured  a  great  position  for  herself  if  Inarus  had  suc- 
ceeded in  maintaining  his  seat  upon  the  throne  of  Egypt. 
But  she  was  not  in  a  position  to  employ  all  her  power  on  be- 
half of  Inarus  at  the  critical  time.  We  find  an  inscription  f 
in  which  are  named  the  members  of  one  of  the  ten  Attic 
tribes  who  were  slain  in  one  and  the  same  year,  in  Cyprus, 
Egypt,  Phoenicia,  ^gina,  Ilalieis,  and  Megara.  To  this  dis- 
sipation of  the  available  forces  of  the  republic  we  may  at- 
tribute the  result  that  Egypt,  undoubtedly  the  principal  the- 
atre of  the  war,  was  inadequately  supported  by  the  efforts  of 
Athens. 

Nevertheless  we  cannot  entirely  forget  the  Egyptian  war 
as  a  part  of  her  history.  Artaxerxes  employed  all  his  mili- 
tary strength,  with  the  advantage  also  of  some  previous  mili- 
tary training,  in  the  subjugation  of  Egypt.  His  success  cor- 
responded to  his  efforts.     Upon  the  appearance  of  a  Perso- 

*  There  is  no  question  that  Athens  imported  com  from  Egypt  at  this 
epoch.  Though  the  name  of  Psammetichus,  who  was  the  father  of  Ina- 
chus,  is  given  here,  which  does  not  suit  the  date,  we  may,  perhaps,  as- 
sume a  confusion  between  the  two  names  (cf.  W.  A.  Schmidt,  "  Das  peri- 
kleische  Zeitalter,"  i.  p.  44). 

t  Kirchhoflf. "  Corpus  Inscript.  Att."  i.  n.  433. 


190  GREECE  AND  PEIISIA. 

Phoenician  fleet  at  the  mouths  of  the  Nile,  the  investment  of 
the  citadel  of  Memphis,  in  which  the  Grseco-Libjan  army  of 
Inarus  was  engaged,  could  no  longer  be  maintained,  in  the 
absence  of  the  Athenian  fleet.  The  Athenians  hoped  to  be 
able  to  hold  out  upon  an  island  in  the  Nile,  but  the  Persians, 
probably  favored  by  the  time  of  year,  were  able  to  dry  up 
the  arm  of  the  river  upon  which  they  had  relied  for  protec- 
tion. The  Greeks  defended  themselves  stoutly,  burning  their 
ships,  that  they  might  not  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands,  and 
pledging  themselves  to  resist  to  the  last.  Almost  the  whole 
force  was  destroyed,  and  only  a  small  number  succeeded  in 
reaching  Kyrene.*  An  Athenian  fleet  of  fifty  sail  appeared 
on  the  coast  only  when  the  issue  was  decided  beyond  recall, 
and  Egypt  passed  once  more  under  the  power  of  the  Persians. 
Egypt  had  already  witnessed  a  conflict  between  Greeks  and 
Persians.  The  victories  of  Cambyses  were  repeated  by  Arta- 
xerxes.  But,  as  may  be  supposed,  such  a  result  did  not  satis- 
fy the  ambition  and  energy  of  the  Greeks,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible that  Athens  could  look  on  with  patience  whilst  the 
naval  power  of  Phoenicia  was  recovering  its  old  importance. 
Some  years  later,  after  Athens  and  Sparta  had  come  to  a  tem- 
porary accommodation,  Kimon  undertook  a  new  expedition, 
directed  principally  against  Cypnis,  but  aiming  further  at 
Egypt,  and  even  at  the  overthrow  of  the  Persian  empire. 
The  project  is  intelligible  by  the  light  of  the  experiment 
which  had  been  made  just  before  it  to  replace  the  ruling  dy- 
nasty by  another.  Inarus  had  been  captured  and  crucified, 
but,  in  the  Delta,  Amyrtoeus,  a  pretender  of  true  Egyptian 
lineage,  still  held  his  ground;  and  since,  as  so  often  hap- 
pened, misunderstandings  had  arisen  between  the  satraps  and 
the  court  of  the  Great  King,  any  success  might  of  course  have 
brought  about  a  turn  of  fortune.  Kimon  consulted  the  ora- 
cle of  Jupiter  Ammon,  in  which  he  might  naturally  have  ex- 
pected to  find  Egyptian  sjnnpathies,  but  before  the  answer 

*  We  adhere  to  the  account  in  Tlmkydides,  i.  110.  The  discrepancies 
in  Diodorus,  xi.  77,  are  of  no  importance,  since  in  another  place  (xiii.  25) 
his  statements  are  in  harmony  with  those  of  Thukydides.  So  also  are 
the  words  of  Isocratcs  (Trf^i  n'pnytK  87,  p.  170  J),  dc  A'lyvirrov  Siaxdaiai 
trXivffdffai  rpiripiis  dvrolQ  role  vrXtipwfAaat  {afOaptivap. 


THE  PEACE  OF  KIMON.  191 

arrived  he  was  already  dead  (b.c.  449),  probably  in  conse- 
quence of  a  wound  received  before  Kitium,  in  Cyprus.  Un- 
fortunately we  have  very  imperfect  information  about  these 
events.  For  the  most  important  transactions  of  a  time  in 
which  Herodotus  and  Thukydidcs  were  living  we  are  referred 
to  mere  hearsay,  as  set  down  by  later  authors.  From  Thukyd- 
idcs we  only  learn  that  after  Kimon's  death  the  Phoenicians 
were  successfully  encountered,  near  Salamis,  in  Cyprus,  in  an- 
other double  battle  by  land  and  sea.  Thus,  though  Egypt 
w^as  lost,  the  dominion  of  the  sea  was  maintained. 

At  this  point,  however,  a  difficulty  presents  itself  to  the 
critical  historian  which  we  cannot  leave  undiscussed,  and 
which  requires,  indeed,  immediate  attention.  To  Kimon  him- 
self is  ascribed  the  conclusion  of  a  peace  with  Persia,  concern- 
ing which  an  absolute  silence  prevails  elsewhere.  It  is  as- 
serted that  a  foiTual  compact  was  concluded  between  the  re- 
public of  Athens  and  the  Great  King,  in  which  the  latter 
expressly  renounced  all  attempts  to  subjugate  the  Ionian 
cities,  and  besides  engaged  not  to  send  his  fleet  to  sea  beyond 
certain  clearly  indicated  limits.  The  Athenians  on  their  part 
are  said  to  have  bound  themselves  not  to  attack  the  territories 
of  the  king  Artaxerxes.  This  account  has  been  the  subject 
of  much  learned  controversy.  The  fact  of  such  a  peace  has 
generally  been  denied,  because  it  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
principal  contemporary  authoi*8.  We  have  just  alluded  to  the 
defective  nature  of  the  information  about  this  period.  But 
Herodotus  mentions  an  embassy  of  the  Athenian  Callias  to 
the  Persian  court,  which  can  scarcely  have  had  any  other 
aim  than  the  re-establishment  of  peace.  The  mission  itself 
was  a  friendly  advance,  considering  that  the  status  helli  still 
continued,  and  had  led  to  events  which  imperilled  the  de- 
pendence of  Egypt  and  Cyprus  upon  the  Persian  empire.  In 
order  to  put  an  end  to  such  dangers,  the  Great  King  would 
have  to  treat  for  peace,  and  to  consider  what  terms  he  could 
offer  to  the  Athenians.  To  Athens  nothing  could  be  of  more 
importance  than  that  she  should  remain  mistress  of  the  sea, 
secure  from  the  fear  of  any  attack  by  the  Persians  upon  the 
Greek  cities  in  Asia.  To  attain  the  first  object  was  the  prin- 
cipal motive  of  Kimon's  naval  expedition ;  the  second  was 


192  GREECE  AND  PERSIA. 

of  immense  importance  for  the  consolidation  of  the  Athenian 
dominion  in  the  Archipelago.  If,  therefore,  it  was  definitive- 
ly settled  that  no  Persian  vessel  of  war  was  to  pass  beyond 
the  line  of  the  Phaselis  and  the  Kyanean  rocks,  whilst  at  the 
same  time  the  land  forces  of  the  satraps  were  to  remain  three 
days'  journey  from  the  coast,  we  have  here  the  very  condi- 
tions which  the  Athenians  must  have  regarded  as  those  it  was 
most  important  to  secure.  Only  on  their  fulfilment  could 
they  promise  to  leave  the  dominions  of  the  king  unassailed. 
No  formal  peace  was  concluded,  but  an  understanding  was 
apparently  come  to,  sufiicient  to  guarantee  the  general  re- 
pose.* 

It  is  probable  that  the  state  of  things  which  did  in  fact 
ensue  was  regarded  as  preliminary  to  a  formal  compact.  The 
double  battle  near  the  Cyprian  Salamis  may  be  regarded  as 
the  last  act  in  the  war  between  Hellenes  and  Persians  at  this 
stage  of  history.  The  Hellenes  maintained  their  indepen- 
dence, and  achieved  supremacy  on  the  sea ;  the  Persian  em- 
pire, however,  still  remained  intact,  and  still  maintained  its 
dominant  position  in  the  world.  If  we  might  venture  to 
measure  and  estimate  the  course  of  general  history  by  the 
forces  at  work  below  the  surface,  we  might  say  that  the  time 
for  the  universal  supremacy  of  Greece  was  not  yet  come. 
The  Greeks,  in  consequence  of  the  Medo-Persian  war,  and  of 

*  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Diodorus  derived  from  Ephorus  the  in- 
formation Avhich  be  gives  us  that  a  peace  was  actually  effected.  It  is, 
however,  not  probable  either  that  this  author  forged  a  treaty  out  of  love 
for  the  political  fancies  of  his  master,  Isocrates,  or  that  any  motive  can 
have  existed  at  a  later  time  for  actually  engraving  such  a  forged  treaty 
upon  a  column.  The  treaty  harmonizes  too  accurately  with  the  circum- 
stances of  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  to  have  been  invented  in  the 
fourth.  That  Herodotus  only  mentions  the  embassy  in  a  cursory  way, 
and  the  convention  not  at  all,  is  explained  wlien  we  remember  that  these 
later  circumstances  did  not  come  within  the  scope  of  his  history,  which 
would  have  lost  its  unity  and  ol)jectivity  by  too  exact  an  exi)lanation 
of  later  events.  In  the  explanation  of  the  passage  in  Thuk.  vii.  25,  26, 
to  which  Dahlmann  and  Manso  refer,  Grote  ("History  of  Greece,"  v.  454, 
n.  1)  is,  in  my  judgment,  right.  The  name  "Peace  of  Kimon"  must, 
however,  not  be  taken  literally ;  it  was  only  an  accommodation  made  by 
the  Athenians  about  the  time  of  Kimon's  decease. 


RESULTS  OF  THE  WAR.  I93 

the  victories  they  had  achieved,  were  in  a  state  of  internal 
commotion,  in  which  the  intellectual  aspects  of  their  life  ap- 
peared in  strong  relief.  These  intestine  struggles,  which  con- 
tinued without  interruption,  but  led  to  no  decisive  results 
of  importance,  did  not  interrupt  their  development  in  any 
direction,  but  rather  served  to  excite  that  emulation  which 
is  a  necessary  incentive  to  the  production  of  works  of  litera- 
ture and  art.  On  the  other  hand,  a  struggle  with  Persia 
would  have  been  fatal  to  these  tendencies  even  if  the  Greeks 
liad  been  victorious;  military  success  and  the  fascination  of 
conquest  would  have  enlisted  all  their  energies  and  directed 
them  to  other  ends.  An  epoch  of  equilibrium  between  the 
Persian  monarchy  and  the  Greek  republics,  such  an  equilib- 
rium as  followed  upon  the  battle  of  Mycale,  and  even  more 
conspicuously  upon  that  of  the  Eurymedon,  was  essential  in 
order  to  leave  the  Greeks  time  for  their  internal  develop- 
ment. In  this,  however,  nothing  was  of  such  advantage  to 
them  as  the  complete  independence  of  Athens.  Here  that 
constitution  was  matured  which,  just  because  it  was  com- 
posed of  such  divergent  elements,  prepared  the  way  for  the 
movements  of  mind  and  gave  a  field  for  its  exercise  in  civil 
and  social  life. 

13 


Chapter  YII. 
THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY  AND  ITS  LEADERS. 

The  political  relations  which  we  have  been  considering, 
though  dominating  the  whole  world,  were,  nevertheless,  not 
the  only  subjects  which  engaged  attention  ;  nor,  indeed,  after 
the  decisive  actions  at  Plataea  and  Mycale,  were  they  even 
the  most  important  of  such  subjects.  In  the  midst  of  these 
complications,  the  differences  between  one  Greek  city  or  state 
and  another  developed  themselves.  Above  all,  it  was  in 
great  part  due  to  these  very  complications  that  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  phenomena  which  the  history  of  the  world 
has  known  made  its  appearance ;  we  mean  the  Athenian 
democracy.  There  is  a  close  correspondence  between  these 
internal  movements  and  the  contests  waged  with  adverse 
forces  from  without.  We  have  purposely  brought  our  ac- 
count of  the  latter  to  the  point  at  which  a  state  of  equilib- 
rium liad  resulted,  and  have  abstained  from  mentioning  in- 
ternal struggles  that  we  may  now  contemplate  them  with  less 
distraction. 

1.  Arisieidcs  and  Pericles  as  Opponents  of  Kimon. 

It  is  natural  to  regard  the  various  forms  of  government  as 
distinguished  from  each  other  by  the  existence  in  each  of  a 
political  idea  peculiar  to  itself ;  but  this  is  not  the  historical 
account  of  the  matter. 

The  democracy  of  Athens  owed  its  origin  and  its  founda- 
tion on  a  solid  basis  to  the  struggle  between  the  tyranny  in 
a  monarchical  form  and  the  oligarchic  rule  of  the  leading 
families.  Solon,  in  an  epoch  of  universal  confusion,  had  at- 
tempted to  establish  a  system  of  equilibrium  between  the  ar- 
istocracy and  the  commons  of  Athens  by  reserving  to  the  lat- 
ter a  certain  share  in  the  government  of  the  commonwealth. 


DEMOCRATIC  LEADERS.  195 

But  he  had  been  unable  to  prevent  the  immediate  rise  of  a 
tyranny  which  controlled  the  people  whilst  it  kept  down  the 
oligarchy.  Setting  himself  not  only  against  the  tyranny,  but 
against  the  oligarchy  also,  when  it  rose  once  more  to  the  sur- 
face, the  Alcmaionid  Cleisthenes  had  thoroughly  reformed 
the  constitution  of  Solon,  had  remodelled  the  commons,  and 
had  made  it  his  first  concern  to  put  arms  in  their  hands.  The 
people  of  Athens,  now  for  the  first  time  waking  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  political  existence,  received  the  gift  w^ith  eager- 
ness. They  resisted  with  resolution  and  success  every  at- 
tempt which  the  Lakedsemonians  made  in  connection  with  a 
faction  of  the  Eupatridce  to  wrest  from  them  the  concessions 
which  they  had  obtained.  They  proved  themselves  able  to 
repel  the  first  invasion  of  the  Persians,  which  aimed  at  the  res- 
toration of  the  Athenian  tyranny,  and  to  endure  the  second, 
which  aimed  at  a  subjection  of  all  the  Greeks,  with  a  resigna- 
tion and  willing  self-sacrifice  till  then  without  example. 

The  leaders  under  whom  Athens  achieved  her  victories 
did  not  gain  through  their  services  a  secure  position  in  their 
own  city.  The  aristocratic  Miltiades  was  condemned  to  pay 
a  fine,  and,  being  unable  to  do  so,  died,  it  would  appear,  in 
prison.  Themistocles,  aiming  at  an  exceptional  position,  was 
banished.  Next  to  these  heroic  forms  appear  Aristeides,  who 
had  been  one  of  the  most  active  adherents  of  Cleisthenes,  and 
Kimon,  the  son  of  Miltiades  —  excellent  men,  who  in  their 
turn,  as  the  change  of  affairs  demanded,  maintained  a  high 
position  and  exercised  a  great  influence  in  the  state.  In  a 
sense  different  from  that  touched  on  above,  the  after-effects 
of  the  war  with  Persia  were  manifested. 

The  old  families  had  taken  a  keen  interest  in  the  war,  act- 
ing in  concert  with  the  rising  democracy.  Each  side  could 
claim  a  share  in  the  victory,  but  the  results  of  the  struggle 
tended  mainly  to  the  advantage  of  the  people.  The  prepon- 
derance obtained  by  the  popular  element  may  be  traced  main- 
ly to  the  Persian  war,  and  that  in  two  w^ays.  The  desolation 
with  which  the  Persians  had  visited  the  land  affected  the  ar- 
istocratic proprietors  most  sensibly ;  and  after  the  war  they 
found  themselves  grievously  impoverished.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  victories  won  had  raised  the  standard  of  living 


196  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

among  the  lower  orders  and  increased  their  substance.  Even 
during  the  struggle  itself  the  effects  of  these  disturbed  rela- 
tions became  apparent.  Before  the  battle  of  Plataea,  a  kind 
of  conspiracy  was  traced  in  Plataea  itself  among  the  families 
of  distinction.  Their  aim  is  said  to  have  been  to  break  up 
the  democracy,  or,  failing  that,  to  pass  over  to  the  Persians. 
Their  purpose  was  discovered ;  the  two  most  guilty  of  the 
conspirators  saved  themselves  by  flight ;  others  supposed 
themselves  undiscovered,  and  w^ould  seem  to  have  repented 
of  their  intention. 

Aristeides  might  perhaps  have  had  sufficient  authority  to 
revive  the  old  prerogatives,  but  he  regarded  this  as  impracti- 
cable, not  merely  because  the  relations  of  property  had  alto- 
gether changed,  but  principally  because  the  people,  having 
once  borne  arms,  could  not  be  brought  back  to  their  previous 
state  of  subordination.  By  arms  and  by  victories,  reputa- 
tions had  been  won,  involving  a  natural  claim  to  a  share  in 
the  highest  offices.  Besides  this,  the  people  distinctly  avowed 
that  they  would  no  longer  acquiesce  in  the  old  restrictions. 
It  is  obvious  that  thus  the  equilibrium  between  the  old  fami- 
lies and  the  Demos,  upon  which  the  Solonian  constitution 
was  based,  was  completely  destroyed.  This  was  the  natural 
consequence  of  years  of  war  and  victory.  The  people  had 
tasted  freedom ;  they  had  shed  their  blood  for  it,  and  without 
violence  and  danger  the  old  state  of  things  could  not  have 
been  maintained.  The  abrogation  of  the  privileges  of  tlie 
noble  and  wealthy  families  was  a  necessary  step  towards 
bringing  the  democracy  into  complete  relief.  Aristeides  was 
not  restrained  by  that  love  of  justice  which  is  his  chief  title 
to  fame  from  favoring  this  design.  As  ^Eschylus  expresses 
it,  in  a  passage  which  is  rightly  regarded  as  pointing  to  him, 
he  wished  not  only  to  seem,  but  to  be,  just — a  great  saying, 
which  wo  may  conceive  to  have  been  suggested  by  the  fact 
that  he  did  not  hesitate  to  acknowledge  the  rights  won  by 
the  people  in  the  national  struggle,  feeling  that  arms  led  to 
freedom.  Through  the  progress  of  trade,  of  the  marine,  and 
of  the  dominion  with  which  the  latter  was  associated,  the  de- 
mocracy, although  as  yet  not  completely  developed,  assumed 
the  ascendant. 


ARISTEIDES.  197 

This  ascendency  at  once  opened  the  further  question,  how 
far  democracy  might  be  guided  to  the  advantage  of  the  whole 
commonwealth.  For  this  task  Aristeides  was  exactly  adapted. 
Whilst  Themistocles  refused  to  efface  his  personality  even 
under  the  democracy,  it  was  the  merit  of  Aristeides  that  he 
put  self  in  the  background.  He  withdrew  a  proposition  at 
the  very  moment  when  it  was  being  passed,  because  the  pre- 
vious speeches  for  and  against  liad  convinced  him  that  his 
plan  was  not  perfectly  adapted  to  its  end.  Propositions  of 
undoubted  utility  were  made  by  him  through  others,  because 
they  would  otherwise  have  been  rejected,  through  the  jeal- 
ousy which  his  name  had  begun  to  excite.  Aristeides  was 
accounted  poor,  and  prided  himself  upon  being  so ;  neverthe^ 
less,  he  had  belonged  to  the  first  class  in  the  state,  the  Penta- 
cosiomedimni,  and  had  become  archon  by  virtue  of  the  old 
prerogative  of  that  class.  This  very  prerogative  he  swept 
away. 

All  the  restrictions  which  excluded  the  larger  number  of 
the  citizens  from  sharing  in  the  higher  offices  were  removed 
under  his  leadership.  The  electors  were  one  and  all  made 
capable  of  election  also,  and  thus  an  administration  was  formed 
very  different  to  those  which  had  preceded  it.  Yet  it  can- 
not be  said  that  the  change  ran  counter  to  the  spirit  of  the 
constitution,  for  the  power  of  the  individual  was  still  made 
to  depend  upon  his  property ;  only  the  relations  of  property 
had  themselves  undergone  a  radical  change  in  the  course  of 
the  last  few  years.  The  recognition  of  this  change  was  the 
principal  work  of  Aristeides,  with  respect  to  the  domestic 
polity  of  Athens. 

But  his  influence  was  felt  no  less  sensibly  in  her  attitude 
towards  other  powers.  Themistocles  had  entertained  the  de- 
sign of  forcing  upon  the  islands  the  supremacy  of  Athens, 
but  that  which  was  premature  and  impossible  for  him  was 
achieved  by  Aristeides.  The  opportunity  was  afforded  by 
the  irritating  behavior  of  Pausanias,  the  Spartan  king;  his 
arrogant  proceedings  wounded  the  pride  of  the  admirals  in 
command  of  the  insular  contingents,  who  complained  of  his 
ill-treatment  of  them.  Belonging,  as  they  did,  to  the  Ionian 
race,  they  were  especially  sensitive  at  having  to  yield  obedi- 


198  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

ence  to  a  Dorian  commander-iu-cliicf.  They  were  better  in- 
clined towards  their  kinsmen  the  Athenians,  wlio,  morecf^er, 
as  having  done  the  most  distinguished  service  in  the  naval 
war,  seemed  to  have  a  special  claim  to  direct  its  further  prog- 
ress. Moreover,  as  Pausanias  took  advantage  of  the  impor- 
tance which  he  had  acquired  at  the  head  of  the  collective 
forces  of  Greece  to  demean  himself  in  a  manner  which  the 
Spartan  oligarchy  found  intolerable,  even  Sparta  ceased  to 
have  an  interest  in  maintaining  the  chief  command  over  the 
fleet.  It  was,  indeed,  remembered  how  an  oracle  had  pre- 
dicted that  the  dominion  of  the  Lakedsemonians  would  be 
but  a  halting  one,  if  it  did  not  embrace  at  once  land  and  sea, 
and  in  consequence  the  Athenians  expected  to  have  to  pre- 
pare for  war ;  but  a  member  of  the  Gerusia  was  able  to  con- 
vince the  rest  that  a  naval  supremacy  was  not  expedient  for 
Sparta.  The  Spartans  desisted  from  every  attempt  to  coun- 
teract the  course  of  things,  and  thus  were  generally  under- 
stood to  liave  renounced  the  hegemony.  In  brief,  Athenians 
now  assumed  the  chief  command  of  the  naval  forces,  a  result 
to  which  they  were  especially  assisted  by  the  confidence  in- 
spired by  the  modest  and  tranquil  character  of  Aristeides, 
whose  authority  in  these  affairs  was  now  paramount. 

It  was  in  keeping  with  the  character  of  the  Athenian  de- 
mocracy to  grasp  the  naval  supremacy  which  the  oligarchical 
Sparta  resigned.  Aristeides  has  been  credited  with  having 
aroused  the  attention  of  the  Athenians  to  the  advantages 
which  such  a  position  would  secure  tlicm.  He  was,  at  any 
rate,  the  principal  agent  in  raising  Athens  to  tliat  position. 
The  new  relation  could  only  be  based  on  contributions  ac- 
cording to  a  definite  assessment,  and  Aristeides  was  commis- 
sioned to  determine  this  for  the  new  members  of  the  League. 
The  contributions  were  fixed  at  the  moderate  total  of  460 
talents,  and  later  on,  when  they  had  been  raised  to  three  times 
this  amount,  the  days  of  the  old  tribute  were  praised  as  a 
golden,  a  Saturnian,  time.  At  a  congress  of  the  members  of 
the  League  in  the  temple  of  ApoUo  and  Artemis,  points  of 
detail  were  next  arranged.  The  members  of  the  League  liad 
ostensibly  equal  rights,  but  this  did  not  prevent  them  from 
falling  into  a  state  of  dependence  upon  the  Athenians,  with 


THE  DELIAN  LEAGUE.  199 

whom  rested  the  appointment  of  the  treasurers  of  Greece, 
that  is,  of  the  League.  The  members  of  the  League  gave  in 
their  contributions  themselves,  and  these  were  originally  kept 
in  the  temple  of  Delos.  The  justice  of  Aristeides  in  these 
traiisactions  was  reduced  to  some  shifts,  and,  indeed,  the  an- 
cients never  referred  this  attribute  of  his  to  public  affairs,  in 
which  they  conceived  him  to  have  been  guided  by  the  exi- 
gencies of  his  mother-country. 

Aristeides  developed,  on  the  one  hand,  the  democratic  con- 
stitution, whilst,  on  the  other,  he  laid  the  foundation  for  the 
naval  supremacy  of  Athens.  The  two  achievements  are  close- 
ly linked  togethel*.  In  the  latter  his  associate  was  Kimon, 
who,  however,  as  we  have  explained,  was  at  the  same  time 
prosecuting  the  war  against  the  Persians  on  an  extensive 
scale.  To  this  end  the  naval  confederacy  put  forth  all  its 
powers.  Yet  tlie  very,  victories  which  Kimon  won  led  to 
complications  and  disturbances  among  the  members  of  the 
League,  most  of  whom  had  some  special  interest  of  their  own. 
The  reception  of  those  new  associates  who  were  attracted  by 
the  victories  won  involved  a^  change  which  could  not  be 
pleasant  to  every  one ;  and,  as  the  payment  of  the  prescribed 
contributions,  if  the  settlement  were  called  in  question,  would 
cause  tlie  estrangement  of  a  portion  of  the  fleet,  the  perma- 
nency of  the  whole  confederacy  was  endangered.  Athens  re- 
solved to  use  her  whole  power  to  suppress  every  centrifugal 
movements  Naxos  before  and  Thasos  after  the  battle  of  the 
Eyryjnedon  had  this  lesson  impressed  upon  them.  The  par- 
ticular interest  of  the  latter  isj^nd  conflicted  with  that  of 
Athens,  inasmuch  as  it  had  claims  upon  the  gold  mines  of  the 
neighboring  continent,  which  had  now  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  Athenians.  A  formal  revoTt  ensued,  which  for  some 
years  in  succession  (b.c.  465-463)  efnployed  the  warlike  re- 
sources of  AthenSj^  until  the  inhabitants  were  at  length  com- 
pelled to  give  up  the  possession  of  a  naval  force  of  their  own 
and  to  pay  the  contributions  .imposed  upon  them.  For  the 
discharge  of  these  contribiitions  measures  were  at  the  same 
time  taken  of  a  character  universally  binding.  Ivimon  had 
allowed  the  smaller  communities,.which  found  it  inconvenient 
to  unite  agricultural  labors  with  service  in  the  fleet,  to  pay 


200  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

their  contributions  altogether  in  money.  This  concession  was 
ascribed  to  his  humanity,  but  it  is  obvious  that  the  power  of 
the  leading  state  was  augmented  by  a  change  which  put  into 
its  hands  the  assessment  and  exaction  of  these  contributions. 
The  Delian  League  thus  gradually  transformed  itself  into  a 
supremacy  of  Athens,  not  maintained  without  violence,  and 
certain  to  excite  feelings  of  antipathy,  especially  on  the  part 
of  Sparta. 

Sparta  was  at  this  time  involved  in  the  most  embarrassing 
difficulties.  The  Messenian  war  had  been  renewed  for  the 
third  time.  The  Spartans,  despairing  of  success  in  the  at- 
tempt to  master  the  principal  stronghold,  Ithome,  in  which 
the  descendants  of  the  original  population  maintained  them- 
selves, invited  Athens  to  their  assistance,  in  virtue  of  their 
ancient  covenant.  This  covenant  was,  indeed,  still  binding, 
but  various  misunderstandings  had  arisen  in  the  course  of  the 
last  few  years.  In  Athens  they  professed  to  have  proof  that 
the  island  of  Thasos  had  applied  to  Sparta  in  its  necessities, 
and  had  actually  received  from  her  secret  promises  of  assist- 
ance. In  the  popular  assembly  at  Athens,  when  the  request 
of  Sparta  for  assistance  against  Ithome  was  under  discussion, 
Ephialtes,  one  of  the  most  popular  orators  and  demagogues  of 
the  time,  reminded  his  hearers  that  this  state  was  the  natural 
enemy  of  Athens,  and  that  they  could  have  no  motive  for 
rescuing  her  from  her  perplexities.  Kimon  insisted  that  the 
thing  must  be  done,  and  said  that  they  ought  not  to  "let 
Greece  be  lamed,  and  Athens  herself  be  deprived  of  her  yoke- 
fellow." He  carried  his  point,  and  was  himself  commissioned 
to  lead  a  small  but  well-appointed  force  against  Ithome.  But 
this  step  did  but  give  fresh  occasion  of  quarrel,  for  the  same 
feeling  of  a  fundamental  divergence  of  interests  which  had 
manifested  itself  at  Athens  was  now  no  less  conspicuous 
among  the  Spartiata3.  They  were  almost  afraid  that  Athens 
would  make  common  cause  with  their  subjects,  a  race  of  her 
own  stock,  and  dismissed  the  Athenians  under  the  pretext 
that  they  needed  them  no  longer.  Such  treatment  could  not 
fail  to  be  resented  by  Athens  as  a  slight,  and  the  antagonism 
between  Athens  and  Sparta  manifested  itself  without  disguise, 
with  this  peculiarity,  that  in  Athens  it  assumed  an  intestine 


KIMON.  201 

form,  the  rise  of  the  democracy  causing  aristocratic  sympa- 
thies to  seek  and  find  a  support  in  Sparta. 

A  breach  with  Sparta  was  a  disadvantage  for  the  aristocrats 
at  Athens,  an  advantage  for  the  democracy.  Kimon  espe- 
cially was  destined  to  feel  this  to  his  cost.  He  was  an  aristo- 
crat to  the  core.  In  person  he  was  tall,  with  luxuriant  curly 
hair,  no  orator,  as  most  Athenians  were,  and  without  the  re- 
finements of  social  life,  but  a  simple,  truth-loving  man,  of 
upright  intentions,  a  thoroughly  aristocratic  nature,  and  one, 
moreover,  of  those  which  impress  the  people  without  exciting 
their  hatred.  His  maritime  victories  and  the  authority  which 
he  exercised  in  the  naval  confederacy  earned  for  him  high 
respect.  He  was  the  richest  man  in  Attica,  and  by  the  liber- 
ality with  which  he  employed  his  wealth,  and  the  structures 
and  works  of  art  on  which  he  expended  it,  he  played  towards 
his  city  something  like  the  part  of  a  patron.  He  opened  his 
gardens  to  the  public,  and  helped  the  needy  by  largesses  of 
food,  with  the  natural  result  that  he  had  the  influence  of  the 
lower  classes  on  his  side.  Though  he  is  said  to  have  under- 
stood nothing  of  the  fine  arts,  the  influence  which  he  exer- 
cised upon  art  and  its  productions  in  his  own  epoch  was  great 
and  stimulating.  From  Thasos  he  brought  Polygnotus  to 
Athens,  who  illustrated  the  greatness  of  Miltiades  in  the  por- 
ticoes which  he  adorned.  There  the  hero  was  to  be  seen  at 
the  battle  of  Marathon  cheering  on  his  warriors  to  the  attack. 
Among  the  thirteen  figures  of  bronze  given  by  the  Athenians 
as  a  votive  offering  to  the  Delphic  oracle  appeared  the  form 
of  Miltiades  alongside  of  the  gods  of  the  race  and  country. 
The  master  hand  of  Pheidias  paid  him  here  the  same  tribute 
as  Polygnotus  had  paid  him  at  Athens. 

Kimon  gave  to  the  memory  of  his  father  and  of  the  great 
victories  achieved  against  the  Persians  the  devotion  of  a  life- 
time. This,  too,  is  the  corner-stone  of  his  policy.  Since 
those  victories  had  been  won  through  the  league  between 
Lakedsemon  and  Athens,  Kimon,  whilst  straining  every  nerve 
to  prosecute  the  struggle  with  Persia,  was  no  less  anxious  to 
maintain  a  good  understanding  with  Lakedaemon.  In  this  he 
was  supported  by  all  those  Avho  derived  benefit  from  such 
aristocratical  privileges  as  still  survived,  whilst  the  democratic 


202  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

movement  was  carried  out  in  opposition  to  his  policy.  Two 
parties  were  formed,  with  antagonistic  sympathies  and  aims; 
one  regarding  the  struggle  with  the  Medo-Persians  as  its  prin- 
cipal task,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  maintenance  of  the  old 
gradations  of  rank  and  the  alliance  with  Lakedaemon ;  the 
other  placing  in  the  foreground  the  opposition  to  Lakedaemon, 
straining  every  nerve  to  make  Athens  the  first  power  in 
Greece,  and,  with  this  end  in  view,  developing  democratic  in- 
stitutions to  their  fullest  extent.  Pericles  became  the  head 
of  the  latter  party.  He,  too,  was  sprung  from  one  of  the 
leading  families;  he  was  the  son  of  the  victor  of  Mycale, 
Xanthippus,  the  man  who  brought  against  Miltiades  the 
charijes  to  which  he  fell  a  victim.  The  strucrfflo  between  the 
victors  of  Marathon  and  Mycale  was  renewed  in  their  sons. 

The  successes  of  Kimon  could  not  fail  to  disquiet  Pericles. 
Competition  for  the  supreme  power  has  in  every  state  been 
the  cause  of  variance  between  its  leading  citizens,  and  it  has 
often  happened  that  a  member  of  one  of  the  principal  fami- 
lies has,  in  order  to  combat  another  aristocrat,  taken  up  the 
cause  of  the  people  and  helped  to  open  a  free  course  to  dem- 
ocratic tendencies.  Pericles  was  supported  by  Ephialtes,  the 
same  who  had  spoken  against  the  expedition  to  Ithome,  the 
ill  success  of  which,  with  the  consequent  excitement  at  Athens, 
operated  powerfully  in  his  favor  and  that  of  Pericles.  They 
could  venture  to  propose  laws  the  effect  of  w^hich  was  to 
change  fundamentally  the  relative  position  of  parties.  Most 
of  those  institutions  upon  which  the  authority  of  the  principal 
families  depended  had  already  been  dissolved.  The  Areop- 
agus now  shared  their  fate,  its  judicial  functions,  which  still 
remained  to  attest  the  magisterial  authority  of  the  upper 
classes,  being,  with  a  single  and  very  exceptional  reservation, 
abrogated  and  transferred  to  the  llelisea.*  No  one  can  main- 
tain that  a  regard  for  the  better  administration  of  justice  was 
the  real  motive  for  this  change.  Tlio  Areopagus,  whose  im- 
memorial privileges  possessed  the  sanction  of  religion,  was  the 

*  In  the  uncertainty  of  nil  clironological  data  wo  welcome  the  stntc- 
ment  of  Diodonis  (xi.  77),  that  the  law  against  the  Areopagus  was  passed 
01.  80, 1  =460-459.  We  may  fairly  assume  that  the  law  by  which  Kimon 
was  exiled  was  of  earlier  date ;  of.  Fischer, "  Elciuc  Schriften,"  i.  42  n. 


PERICLES  AND  EPHIALTES.  203 

body  in  which  were  concentrated  the  prerogatives  of  the  prin- 
cipal families.  The  ordinance  of  Aristeides,  according  to 
which  the  outgoing  archons,  even  according  to  the  new  sys- 
tem of  election,  became  members  of  the  Areopagus,  had  not 
produced  any  material  effect.  The  predominant  influence  of 
Kimon  secured  to  the  Areopagus  a  constant  and  uninterrupted 
authority.  To  put  an  end  to  this  there  was  but  one  course 
open.  The  Areopagus  would  have  to  be  divested  of  the  ju- 
dicial functions,  which  continued  to  give  it  all  the  authority 
of  a  supreme  magistracy.  The  Heliaea,  to  which  those  func- 
tions, with  the  exception  of  an  insignificant  residuum,  were 
transferred,  was  the  whole  Athenian  people,  under  an  organ- 
ization adapted  to  the  administration  of  justice.  It  consisted 
of  6000  citizens,  chosen  by  lot  for  the  purpose,  who  again 
were  divided  into  ten  distinct  dicasterios,  each  of  which  num- 
bered 500  members,  so  that  1000  were  left  over,  to  fill  up 
vacancies  as  they  occurred.  Actions  were  brought  before  the 
archons  as  before,  but  their  duty  was  now  limited  to  laying 
them  before  one  of  the  dicasteries  of  the  Ileliaea,  which  found 
a  verdict  and  gave  sentence.  In  this  way,  by  a  single  stroke, 
the  judicial  power  was  wrested  from  the  body  which  had  held 
it  by  a  traditional  right  and  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  people. 
Here  the  question  forces  itself  upon  us,  how  far  each  citizen 
could  have  found  it  possible  to  reconcile  the  claims  of  his 
daily  business  with  these  additional  obligations.  Pericles  and 
Ephialtes  succeeded  in  securing  a  small  remuneration  for  the 
heliasts  while  actually  engaged  in  their  duties.  From  the 
comic  poets  we  see  that,  as  a  rule,  the  older  men,  who  were 
less  engrossed  in  ordinary  avocations,  were  selected  for  this 
purpose.  The  authority  which  was  to  be  taken  from  the 
Areopagus  being  of  a  political  as  well  as  a  judicial  character, 
an  oath  was  required  from  the  heliasts,  by  which  they  bound 
themselves,  above  all  things,  to  favor  neither  tyranny  nor  oli- 
garchy, nor  in  any  way  to  prejudice  the  sovereignty  of  the 
people.*     Other  obligations,  affecting  the  administration  of 


*  That  Demosthenes  is  in  error  in  ascribing  the  form  of  oath  to  Solon 
is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the  law  speaks  of  the  Council  of  the  Five  Hun- 
dred, which,  in  Solon's  time,  was  not  in  existence.    The  wording  is  char- 


204  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

justice,  appear  in  the  oath ;  but  the  most  important  points  are 
those  which  we  have  just  touched  upon,  in  which  we  recognize 
a  complete  fusion  of  the  political  and  judicial  views  therein 
predominant.  Nothing  less  was  intended  than  that  the  Are- 
opagus should  be  altogether  deprived  of  its  influence,  wliich 
was  to  be  bestowed  upon  a  democratic  assembly.  It  must 
not,  however,  be  imagined  that  this  assembly  was  democratic 
in  a  modern  sense. 

Pericles  and  Ephialtes  carried  out  legislative  acts  by  which 
almost  a  third  of  those  who  had  hitherto  been  citizens  were 
excluded  from  the  citizenship.  The  citizenship  was  originally 
an  amalgamation  of  various  distinct  elements.  The  new  law 
provided  that  each  and  every  one  should  be  excluded  from  it 
who  did  not  belong  to  it  by  descent  at  least  in  the  two  pre- 
ceding generations.  It  has  been  assumed  that  the  law  was 
pm'posely  so  framed  as  to  affect  prejudicially,  by  its  retro- 
spective action,  the  family  of  Kimon.  Nevertheless,  it  was 
at  the  same  time  one  of  the  greatest  political  measures  under- 
taken at  this  epoch.  Whilst  the  citizens  obtained  rights 
which  they  had  never  possessed  before,  their  number  under- 
went a  most  important  limitation.  It  is  from  this  time  that 
we  are  able  to  regard  the  Athenian  Demos  as  a  community 
propagating  itself  and  making  its  influence  felt  in  the  world, 
without  any  admixture  of  alien  elements.  The  commons  al- 
ready derived  some  benefit  from  the  state.  Some  were  glad 
to  avail  themselves  of  the  remuneration  bestowed  upon  the 
heliasts.  Others  were  kept  in  good  humor  by  receiving  the 
price  of  admission  to  the  theatre  as  a  grant  from  the  public 
treasury.  What  was  more  important,  for  protracted  service 
in  the  fleet  a  stated  pay  was  given.*    The  distribution  of 

actcristic,  and  itself  a  proof  of  genuineness.  Meier  and  Schomann,  in 
their  history  of  Athenian  legal  procedure  ("  Gcschichtc  des  attischen 
Prozcsses"),  have  justly  insisted  upon  the  support  of  this  document.  A 
Tariation  in  Pollux  (Onomasticon)  affects  only  a  subordinate  issue. 

♦  This  may  be  inferred  with  distinctness  from  the  statements  of  Plu- 
tarch ("Pericles,"  c.  11), in  which  the  citizens  arc  designated  as  t^^ioBou 
In  Plutarch's  "Cimon"  (c.  11)  we  are  further  informed  that  tin;  pay  was 
taken  out  of  the  contributions  of  the  members  of  the  naval  confederacy, 
80  that  tho  citizens  of  Athens  exercised  control  over  tboso  at  whose  ex- 


PERICLES  AND  EPHIALTES.  205 

conquered  districts  in  definite  allotments  was  an  especial  ad- 
vantage to  the  Athenian  citizens.  Their  authority  was  fur- 
ther increased  when  the  treasury  of  the  naval  confederacy 
was  transferred  from  Delos  to  Athens,  and  the  disposition  of 
the  funds  placed  in  their  hands.  This  is  not  the  place  to  in- 
quire how  far  these  arrangements  harmonize  with  the  normal 
conception  of  a  state,  or  whether  they  were  the  best  adapted 
to  reconcile  personal  responsibilities  with  general  interests. 
We  are  but  noting  the  appearance  of  a  political  society,  which 
possessed  and  exercised  power  in  foreign  affairs,  whilst  at  the 
same  time  maintaining  civil  equality,  to  the  advantage  of 
each  individual.  The  Demos  was  a  genuine  power,  control- 
ling other  powers,  and  making  constant  strides  to  empire. 
We  have  seen  that  in  Athens,  as  elsewhere,  democracy  was 
not  of  natural  growth,  but  owed  its  origin  to  the  events  of 
the  time  and  the  policy  of  its  leading  spirits.  Yet  it  is  a 
creation,  endowed  with  an  internal  energy  and  holding  a  po- 
sition in  the  world,  which,  together,  make  it  a  phenomenon 
of  the  highest  importance. 

The  direction  which  Athenian  tendencies  were  taking  at 
this  time  may  be  gathered  from  the  building  of  the  Long 
Walls,  the  principal  aim  of  which  was  to  unite  Athens  with 
her  seaport,  and  from  the  fact  that,  a  short  time  before,  the 
town  of  Megara,  at  the  suggestion  of  Athens,  had  effected  a 
similar  junction.  The  growth  of  her  maritime  connections 
at  that  epoch,  extending,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  even 
to  the  native  rulers  of  Egypt,  rendered  it  desirable  to  make 
Athens  herself  a  kind  of  seaport  town.  There  was,  however, 
another  and  a  paramount  motive.  The  understanding  which 
had  hitherto  been  maintained  between  the  democracy  of 
Athens  and  the  aristocracy  of  Sparta  had  been  interrupted  by 
the  affair  of  Ithome.  The  garrison  of  Ithome  had  been  re- 
duced by  the  Spartans  upon  the  withdrawal  of  the  Athenian 
troops,  but  had  so  far  been  supported  by  Athens  that  she  ob- 


pense  they  received  their  pay.  The  statement  generally  made,  that  Per- 
icles introduced  pay  for  service  on  land  also,  depends  upon  a  passage 
from  a  late  scholiast  on  Demosthenes,  which  cannot  be  regarded  as  pcr^ 
fectly  satisfactory  evidence. 


206  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

tained  for  them  a  refuge  in  the  Locrian  Naupactus.  In  !N"au- 
pactus  and  its  harbor  the  Athenians  secured  for  themselves 
one  of  the  most  important  positions  on  the  western  coast. 
We  encounter  here  what  we  may  call  the  Fate  of  Greece. 
Over  and  over  again  we  note  the  after-effects  of  that  cam- 
paign of  the  Heracleidae  by  which  Sparta  and  her  aristocracy 
were  founded.  Athens,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  principal 
locality  in  which  the  populations  which  had  not  succumbed 
to  the  Dorian  invasion  maintained  themselves.  The  Athe- 
nians saw  in  the  Messenians  their  own  kinsmen,  and  made  use 
of  those  who  had  survived  the  struggle  to  found  a  position 
which  seriously  menaced  the  Peloponnesus,  and  especially 
Corinth.  They  had,  moreover,  dissociated  Megara  from  the 
Peloponnesian  league,  and  drawn  it  into  the  naval  confed- 
eracy. 

The  opposition  between  the  democracy,  now  supreme  at 
Athens,  and  the  aristocracies  by  which  it  was  surrounded 
made  itself  everywhere  felt.  This  was  especially  the  case  in 
Boeotia,  where  the  less  powerful  towns  sided  with  Athens, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  Thebes  was  taken  into  the  protection 
of  Sparta.  It  was  when  things  were  in  this  state  of  ferment 
that  the  Spartans  seized  the  occasion  of  a  dispute  between 
Doris  and  Phokis  to  send  a  considerable  force  to  central 
Greece.  They  successfully  disposed  of  this  contest,  but,  be- 
ing apprehensive  of  encountering  diflSculties  in  their  home- 
ward march,  they  took  up  a  position  in  Boeotia  and  menaced 
Attica  itself.  A  short  time  before,  they  liad  declined  to 
invade  Attica  at  the  suggestion  of  the  Persians;  but  that 
which  they  were  then  unwilling  to  do  in  the  interests  of  the 
Great  King  they  were  now  preparing  to  do  on  their  own  ac- 
count. It  was  a  step  which,  taken  in  conjunction  with  the 
complications  to  which  we  have  referred,  did  more  than  para- 
lyze the  attacks  upon  Persia.  It  imperilled  the  very  exist- 
ence of  democracy  at  Athens.  It  was  believed  that  the  land- 
owners of  Attica,  who  were  generally  displeased  with  the 
erection  of  the  Long  Walls,  had  come  to  an  undei-standing 
with  the  Lakedoemonians  to  stay  the  progress  of  the  works 
and  to  abolish  the  democracy. 

The  war  had  not  yet  broken  out,  but  every  one  saw  it  to  be 


BATTLE  OF  TANAGRA.  207 

imminent.  The  leading  man  at  Athens,  whose  policy  was 
menaced  by  it,  was  not  disposed  to  await  the  danger:  his 
plan  was  to  anticipate  it  by  prompt  action.  That  the  Athe- 
nians had  in  this  another  aim  as  well,  and  were  earnestly  re- 
solved to  suppress  a  certain  domestic  faction,  is  shown  by 
their  conduct  towards  Kimon,  who  made  his  appearance  at 
the  very  crisis  of  the  struggle,  in  order  to  take  part  in  it. 
His  services  were  rejected  by  order  of  the  Council  of  Five 
Hundred,  because  he  was  regarded  as  a  friend  to  the  Lake- 
daemonians.  And  undoubtedly  he  was  what  he  was  called — 
a  Philolakon,  that  is,  he  desired  the  restoration  of  the  old 
friendly  relations  with  Sparta.  Yet  he  was  very  far  from 
wishing  to  force  such  an  alliance  upon  Attica  by  means  of 
external  pressure.  In  his  enforced  inaction  lie  persuaded  his 
friends  and  dependents  to  oppose  the  stoutest  resistance  to  the 
Lakedsemonians.  They  sided  with  Athens  when  Pericles, 
with  a  force  very  inadequate  to  the  requirements  of  his  en- 
terprise, marched  to  encounter  thePeloponnesians  at  Tanagra. 
On  his  side  were  ranged  the  Argives  and  Thessalians,  then 
confederates  of  Athens ;  but  the  Thessalian  cavalry  were  the 
first  to  desert  their  place  in  the  field  and  to  pass  over  to  the 
enemy.  The  Athenian  army  was  defeated.  The  adherents 
of  Kimon  carried  off  the  palm  of  valor,  and  fell  side  by  side 
to  the  number  of  a  hundred  (November,  b.c.  457). 

The  defeat  sustained  by  the  Athenians,  though  severe,  was 
scarcely  decisive.  Probably,  too,  the  united  front  presented 
by  Athens  left  little  hope  of  successful  intervention  in  Attica, 
and  accordingly  the  Lakedsemonians,  after  making  a  few  raids 
in  the  district  of  Megara,  withdrew  to  Peloponnesus,  leaving 
their  allies,  the  Boeotians,  to  themselves.  The  latter  had  al- 
ready, two  months  after  the  battle  of  Tanagra,  been  defeat- 
ed by  the  Athenians  at  (Enophyta,  so  that  Athens  now  con- 
solidated her  power  in  Boeotia  for  the  first  time.  Her  internal 
dissensions  had  also  ceased.  Kimon,  relieved  from  all  sus- 
picion by  the  conduct  of  his  friends,  and  regarded  by  the 
people  with  a  sort  of  regretful  longing,  was  again  recalled,  and 
attained,  if  not  his  old  authority,  at  any  rate  to  high  respect. 
Once  more  he  threw  himself  into  those  warlike  enterprises  in 
the  eastern  Mediterranean  which  characterize  the  last  years 


THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

of  his  career.  Tliere  even  seemed  to  be  some  prospect  of  in- 
ducing Lakedaemon  to  give  these  efforts  a  direct  support. 
Pericles,  too,  was  in  accord  with  Kim  on  in  this,  his  principal 
aim.  "We  hear  of  his  plan  of  bringing  about  a  Panhellenic 
association,  designed  to  rene\^  the  war  against  the  king  of 
Persia  and  prosecute  it  with  the  utmost  vigor.  The  motive 
was,  as  before,  the  duty  of  avenging  on  the  Persians  the  out- 
rages committed  on  Grecian  sanctuaries.  Delegates  from  the 
different  tribes  were  to  meet  at  Athens.  We  are  informed 
that  Pericles  sent  out  four  distinct  embassies  to  this  end,  the 
most  important  of  which  is  said  to  have  been  that  sent  to 
Sparta.  There,  however,  Pericles  failed  to  obtain  a  hearing, 
Sparta  not  having  so  completely  resigned  the  possession  of 
that  hegemony  which  she  had  enjoyed  in  earlier  days  as  to 
concede  to  her  rival,  Athens,  the  pre-eminence  which  this 
position  would  have  secured  her.  Sparta  might  decline  to 
assist  the  king  of  Persia  against  Athens,  but  could  not  bring 
lierself  to  make  common  cause  with  Athens  against  the  king. 
Without  Sparta  the  war  against  Persia  could  not  be  con- 
ducted with  the  energy  which  was  necessary  to  insure  the 
triumph  upon  which  Kimon's  hopes  were  set.  The  utmost 
that  could  be  attained  was  an  armistice  between  Athens  and 
Sparta,  which  was  actually  effected  in  the  year  450.  Athens 
had  to  adopt  this  expedient,  without  which  she  could  not  have 
continued  the  war  against  Persia.  Even  in  Sparta  the  mo- 
tives to  hostility  were  not  urgently  felt  in  the  immediate 
present,  especially  as  long  as  Kim  on  was  once  more  powerful 
and  respected  at  Athens.  The  relations  of  war  or  peace  with 
Sparta,  the  progress  or  resumption  of  the  Persian  war,  the 
comparative  influence  of  tlie  two  states  upon  the  rest  of 
Greece,  the  growth  of  the  Delian  League  and  its  dependence 
upon  Athens,  the  exile  and  return  of  Kimon,  the  plans  of 
Pericles  at  this  epoch  and  his  personal  relations  to  his  great 
antagonist,  are  matters  closely  connected  together  and  mutu- 
ally dependent.  They  fprm  a  parti-colored  web,  in  which 
various  efforts  and  tendencies,  each  with  its  own  local  charac- 
teristics, are  combined.  The  armistice  witli  Sparta  was  indis- 
pensable to  the  campaigns  of  Kimon.  But  a  great  change 
inevitably  took  place  wJien  Kimon  perished  in  the  course  of 


TRUCE  WITH  SPARTA. 

the  war,  and  that  peace  was  concluded  by  whicli  a  period  was 
put  to  the  enterprises  of  the  Pei*sians  against  the  Greeks,  and 
to  those  of  the  Athenians  against  the  Persians. 

2.  The  Administration  of  Pericles, 

The  life  of  Pericles  entered,  we  may  say,  upon  a  new  phase 
when  the  great  rival  with  whom  he  had  so  often  contended 
and  been  reconciled  was  no  more.  Delivered  from  his  oppo- 
sition, and,  at  the  same  time,  from  the  dangers  of  a  war  witli 
Persia,  he  was  able  to  indulge  without  impediment  the  design 
of  bringing  to  an  issue  the  struggle  with  Sparta.  The  occa- 
sion was  this  time  afforded  by  a  question  which  affected  the 
whole  Grecian  world. 

As  was  the  case  in  later  days  with  the  great  hierarchical 
power  of  the  West,  it  was  indispensable  lo  the  satisfactory  dis- 
charge of  those  semi-religious,  semi-political  functions  which 
belonged  to  the  Delphic  oracle,  that  sanctuary  and  priesthood 
should  alike  be  free  from  the  territorial  sovereignty  of  any 
foreign  power.  In  the  utterances  of  the  oracle  no  deference 
was  to  be  paid  to  the  influence  of  a  dominant  state;  it  was  to 
be  itself  of  paramount  authority.  But  the  Athenians  were  of 
opinion  that  the  priesthood,  unable  to  dissociate  itself  entirely 
from  human  tendencies,  was  biassed  in  favor  of  Sparta,  and 
therefore  they  raised  no  objection  when  the  Phokians  made 
themselves  masters  of  the  sacred  district.  This  step,  however, 
roused  the  Lakeda3monians  to  sympathetic  efforts  in  defence 
of  the  sanctuary ;  they  sent  a  military  force  which  restored  it 
to  its  independence  of  the  Phokians.  At  the  same  time  they 
secured  for  themselves  i\\Q  j^'^oinanteia,  or  the  right  of  prece 
dence  in  consulting  the  oracle,  and  caused  the  decree  made 
on  the  subject  to  be  engraved  upon  the  forehead  of  the  brazen 
wolf,  a  votive  offering  of  the  Delphians  themselves,  which 
stood  by  the  great  altar.  In  this  transaction  Athens  dis- 
covered a  grievance.  Without  designing  to  break  by  the  step 
the  armistice  which  was  still  maintained,  Pericles  neverthe- 
less marched  in  his  turn  to  Delphi,  restored  the  territorial 
supremacy  of  the  Phokians,  and  caused  the  right  of  precedence 
to  be  assigned  to  the  Athenians,  and  the  decree  to  that  effect 
to  be  engraved  upon  the  right  side  of  the  brazen  wolf. 


210  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

It  was  a  question  of  honor  between  the  two  leading  states. 
The  ambition  of  Athens  was  satisfied  by  the  new  inscription, 
but  the  Spartans  were  in  the  highest  degree  annoj'ed  by  the 
whole  proceeding.  The  understanding  which  had  prevailed 
for  some  years  was  dissolved,  yet  some  such  understanding 
was  essential  to  the  maintenance  of  the  general  tranquillity. 
The  old  variances,  so  recently  suspended,  at  once  broke  out 
anew.  First  of  all,  in  Boeotia  the  party  lately  subdued  by 
the  Athenians  rose  once  more.  The  Athenians  immediately 
interfered  with  an  armed  force  in  favor  of  their  own  parti- 
sans, but  were  this  time  defeated  at  Coroneia  (b.c.  447).  This 
was  the  signal  for  a  general  movement  against  the  power  of 
Athens.  The  party  in  Locris  and  in  Euboea  which  was  hostile 
to  the  Athenians  had  taken  part  in  the  battle,  and  the  victory 
procured  it  the  ascendency  in  both  places.  Athens  could  not 
prevent  the  restoration  of  the  old  autonomy  in  Boeotia,  and 
when  Pericles  turned  to  Euboea,  in  order  here,  at  any  rate,  to 
maintain  that  supremacy  which  was  most  essential  to  the 
maritime  power  of  Athens,  he  had  to  submit  to  see  Megara, 
at  the  instigation  of  her  kinsmen  the  Corinthians,  revolt  from 
Athens  and  join  the  Peloponnesian  confederacy. 

A  crisis  occurred  on  the  invasion  of  a  Spartan  army,  under 
Pleistoanax,  one  of  the  two  kings.  Pericles  earned  the  grati- 
tude of  his  countrymen  by  inducing  in  some  way  or  other  the 
Spartans  to  retire.*  The  Athenians  succeeded  in  subduing 
Euboea  and  settling  it  according  to  their  pleasure.    Yet  upon 

♦  I  purposely  abstain  from  repeating  the  statement  that  Pericles  bribed 
the  Spartan  king  himself,  or  Cleandridas,  whom  the  Ephors  associated 
with  him.  This  was  the  conclusion  arrived  at  in  Sparta  from  an  assertion 
of  Pericles  about  the  cxpcncliturc  of  a  certain  sum  of  money.  So  we  see 
from  a  fragment  of  Ephorus  (fragm.  118  in  "Hist.  Grajc.  fragm."  ed. 
Miillcr,  i.  p.  206).  Thukydides  mentions  the  matter  three  times.  In  the 
place  in  his  narrative  to  which  it  properly  belongs  he  says  not  a  word  of 
the  alleged  bribery ;  in  the  two  other  passages  he  tells  us  that  Pleistoanax 
incurred  the  suspicion  of  having  taken  a  bribe  (ii.  21,  ij  ^vyt)  aim^  iyivtro 
Ik  "^irapTTii  ioKavri  xpt'lf^a^t  TriiaOrivai  Tt)v  avax<optj<Tiv — cf.  V.  16).  If  he  had 
regarded  the  charge  as  true,  he  would  no  doubt  have  adopted  it  in  his 
history.  Plutarch,  however,  with  his  invariable  propensity  to  anecdote, 
docs  not  hesitate  to  adopt  it  in  his  Life  of  Pericles  as  an  indisputable  fact 
(c.  22). 


THIRTY  YEARS'   TRUCE.  211 

the  mainland  they  continued  to  be  at  a  very  great  disadvan- 
tage. The  Peloponnesian  league  had  acquired  fresh  strength, 
and  the  Athenians  saw  themselves  compelled  to  give  up  their 
possessions  in  Peloponnesus,  especially  Achaia,  as  well  as 
Troezene  and  Pagae,  an  important  position  for  their  com- 
munication with  the  peninsula.  Even  Nisjea  was  abandoned. 
Yet  these  losses,  sensibly  as  they  affected  their  influence  upon 
the  Grecian  continent,  were  counterbalanced  by  a  conces- 
sion still  more  significant,  the  acknowledgment  of  the  Delian 
League.  It  was  left  open  to  states  and  cities  which  were 
members  of  neither  confederacy  to  join  either  at  pleasure. 

These  events  happened  in  01. 83, 3  (b.c.  445) — the  revolt  of 
Megara  and  Eubcea,  the  invasion  of  Pleistoanax,  the  re-con- 
quest of  Euboea,  and  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty,  which  as- 
sumed the  fonii  of  an  armistice  for  thirty  years.  Great  im- 
portance must  be  attributed  to  this  settlement,  as  involving 
an  acknowledgment  which  satisfied  both  parties  and  did  jus- 
tice to  the  great  interests  at  stake  on  either  side.  If  Athens 
renounced  some  of  her  possessions,  the  sacrifice  was  compen- 
sated by  the  fact  that  Sparta  recognized  the  existence  of  the 
naval  supremacy  of  Athens,  and  the  basis  on  w^hich  it  rested. 
We  may  perhaps  assume  that  the  compromise  between  Peri- 
cles and  Pleistoanax  was  the  result  of  the  conviction  felt  by 
both  these  leading  men  that  a  fundamental  dissociation  of  the 
Peloponnesian  from  the  Delian  league  was  a  matter  of  neces- 
sity. The  Spartans  wished  to  be  absolutely  supreme  in  the 
one,  and  resigned  the  other  to  the  Athenians.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  Pericles  was  fully  aware  of  what  he  gave  up 
and  what  he  gained  in  the  transaction.  After  succeeding  not 
only  in  rescuing  Athens  from  a  great  peril,  but  in  promoting 
her  most  essential  interests,  he  obtained  thenceforth  a  more 
unlimited  control  over  public  affairs.  At  the  head  of  an  in- 
telligent, restless,  and  enterprising  Demos,  requiring  at  once 
to  be  guided  and  to  be  kept  in  good-humor,  he  assumed  a 
great  position,  which  well  repays  the  study  of  the  historian. 

Pericles,  the  son  of  the  victor  of  Mycale  and  of  Agariste, 
the  niece  of  that  Cleisthenes  who  obtained  for  the  democracy 
its  preponderance  at  Athens,  was  thus  by  birth  the  inheri- 
tor of  both  tendencies — the  tendency  to  develop  the  foreign 


212  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

power  of  Athens  and  the  tendency  to  perfect  her  internal  or- 
ganization. He  had  taken  no  sliare  himself  in  the  great  Per- 
sian wars ;  he  had  not  helped  to  fight  out  the  great  battle  for 
life  or  death;  he  came  first  upon  the  scene  when  the  relative 
positions  of  both  parties  in  the  struggle  were  finally  adjusted. 
For  the  place  which  he  assumed  as  head  and  leader  of  the 
Demos  he  was  admirably  adapted  by  education  and  training. 
His  earliest  training,  one  in  thorough  conformity  with  Greek 
conceptions,  he  received  through  a  practised  teacher,  of 
whom,  however,  it  was  said  that  his  mind  was  wholly  set 
upon  the  art  of  eloquence  after  the  model  of  the  Sicilian 
school,  which  was  also  in  vogue  at  Athens,  in  which  politics 
and  rhetoric  were  combined.  It  is  perhaps  still  more  im- 
portant to  note  that  philosophers  found  a  hearing  at  Athens, 
and  were  especially  welcome  guests  in  the  house  of  Pericles. 
The  ruling  spirit  in  this  society  was  Anaxagoras,  of  whom 
we  shall  have  to  speak  later  on.  If  we  were  called  upon  to 
give  prominence  to  one  of  his  views  as  exercising  a  greater 
immediate  influence  than  the  rest,  we  should  select  his  doc- 
trine that  those  phenomena  which  filled  other  men  with  ap- 
prehension for  the  future  are  to  be  conceived  as  natural  occur- 
rences, on  the  score  of  which  there  was  nothing  to  be  feared. 
One  who  thus  attached  himself  to  the  philosophers  must  ob- 
viously have  been  raised,  in  the  formation  of  liis  designs  and 
the  whole  conduct  of  life,  far  above  others  who  were  still 
encumbered  by  det&idaimojiia,  or  the  traditional  superstition 
associated  with  unusual  phenomena.  Such  a  man  was  able 
always  to  keep  a  single  eye  to  the  business  in  hand. 

It  was  repeatedly  affirmed  in  ancient  times  that  Pericles 
originally  had  oligarchical  leanings,  that  he  avoided  personal 
competition  and  endeavored  to  distinguish  himself  in  war, 
but  that  as  soon  as  he  began  to  take  a  part  in  public  affairs, 
and  found  himself  confronted  by  an  aristocratic  faction,  he 
became  aware  that  he  could  only  attain  to  importance  by 
securing  the  support  of  the  people.  We  have  already  seen 
how  unreservedly  he  took  this  course,  and  how,  in  conjunction 
with  Ephialtes,  he  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  true  founder 
of  the  Demos  as  an  independent  power.  Ephialtes  in  the 
meantime  had  been  assassinated,  it  did  not  distinctly  appear 


CHARACTER  OF  PERICLES.  213 

by  whom ;  but,  if  the  act  was  intended  as  a  death-blow  to 
democracy,  it  had  rather  the  opposite  effect.  Pericles  rose 
through  it  to  still  greater  influence.  In  his  personal  bearing 
Kimon  had  a  vein  of  popularity  which  was  wanting  in  Pericles. 
The  latter  is  charged  with  haughtiness,  and,  though  he  was 
really  exempt  from  this  fault,  his  character  contained  the 
analogous  element  of  a  proud  reserve.  Elevated  as  he  was 
above  trivialities  of  every  kind,  he  preferred  to  remain  a 
stranger  to  the  ordinary  relations  of  social  life.  Pericles  took 
no  other  walk  than  that  from  his  own  house  to  the  assembly 
in  which  he  spoke.  He  moved  sedately,  and  is  said  to  have 
prayed  that  no  unseasonable  word  might  ever  escape  his  lips. 
From  the  fact  that  this  is  related  of  him  we  may  perhaps  con- 
clude that  he  really  attained  to  the  perfection  he  desired.* 
He  never  displayed  emotion,  and  even  insults  were  powerless 
to  excite  him. 

We  must  bear  in  mind  the  influences  which  acted  upon  the 
Demos  of  Athens — a  stage  unrivalled  in  any  age  of  the  world, 
a  plastic  art  no  less  magnificent,  and  the  impetus  which  culture 
in  its  upward  efforts  never  fails  to  impart  to  the  minds  of  men. 
Much  was  required  in  order  to  guide,  still  more  to  control,  as 
Pericles  did,  an  assembly  of  this  kind.  As  Thukydides  says, 
he  did  not  follow  the  multitude,  the  multitude  followed  him; 
he  did  not  flatter  the  many,  but  often  took  a  line  which 
brought  him  into  collision  with  public  opinion ;  he  inspired 
courage  when  men  were  inclined  to  fear,  and  when  the  people 
betrayed  a  presumptuous  self-confidence  likely  to  be  detri- 
mental, he  emphasized  all  the  dangers  to  which  such  conduct 
might  lead.  The  people  possessed  the  power  to  decide,  but 
Pericles  was  able  so  to  guide  the  assembly  that  the  power  of 
the  people  was  but  the  basis  of  his  own  authority.  Every  one 
recognized  that  he  sought  nothing  for  himself,  but  made  the 
greatness  and  well-being  of  Athens  his  sole  end  and  aim. 
Under  him  the  democracy  acquired   almost  a  monarchical 

*  The  principal  evidence  is  that  of  Stesimbrotus,  whose  statements 
Plutarch  has  combined  with  some  expressions  from  the  comic  poets. 
Such  passages  are  even  now  read  with  pleasure.  W.  A.  Schmidt  ("  Das 
perikleische  Zcitaltcr,"  ii.  p.  9)  reckons  Stesimbrotus  among  the  primary 
authorities  for  the  epoch. 


214  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

character;  the  city  was  ruled  by  its  first  citizen.  We  have  a 
bust  of  Pericles,  a  work  of  antiquity,  of  which  the  full  face 
seems  to  wear  an  expression  of  dignity  and  energy,  whilst  the 
profile  indicates  a  flexible  and  even  designing  character. 
Whilst  he  directed  the  general  business  of  the  state,  he  had  to 
use  every  means  in  order  to  keep  down  his  opponents.  They 
were  aristocrats  who  were  still  attached  to  Sparta;  with  these 
he  fought  many  a  battle;  but  he  had  the  Demos  upon  his 
side.  He  succeeded  in  removing  his  antagonists  by  ostracism, 
and  in  the  course  of  these  encounters  he  acquired  a  most  un- 
usual degree  of  power.  He  gathered  in  his  own  hands  the 
substance  of  administrative  authority,  for  he  was  president  of 
the  Strategi,  and  with  this  office  was  associated  the  duty  of 
providing  for  the  tranquillity  of  the  city.  To  him  was  com- 
mitted the  care  of  the  public  festivals,  and,  most  important  of 
all,  the  disposition  of  the  finances.  Possessed  of  this  authority 
— an  authority  sufficient  to  determine  the  policy  of  the  state 
— Pericles,  instead  of  attempting  to  recover  by  direct  aggres- 
sion, which  would  probably  have  been  fruitless,  the  ground 
he  had  lost,  made  it  his  object  not  only  to  maintain  the  mari- 
time supremacy  of  Athens,  which  the  last  armistice  had  con- 
firmed, but  to  develop  it  into  a  power  which  should  no  longer 
be  compelled  to  take  account  of  the  Peloponnesians. 

The  island  of  Samos,  to  which  belonged  the  glory  of  having 
been  the  earliest  naval  power  of  importance  amongst  the  Hel- 
lenes, refused  to  submit  to  the  leadership  of  Athens.  The 
treasury  of  Delos  had  now  been  transferred  to  that  city,  and 
she  exercised  a  sensible  constraint  over  the  internal  affairs  of 
the  members  of  the  league.  But  even  in  her  foreign  rela- 
tions, for  instance,  with  Miletus,  Samos  would  suffer  no  inter- 
ference. Things  came  to  such  a  pass  that  the  Samians,  who 
still  retained  an  oligarchical  constitution,  made  an  alliance 
with  the  satrap  of  Sardis,  which  enabled  them  to  look  forward 
to  the  support  of  a  Phoenician  fleet.  Pericles,  who  had  just 
made  preparations  to  besiege  Samos,  considered  it  necessary 
at  all  hazards  to  forestall  the  interference  of  the  Phoenicians. 
But  whilst  he  diverted  his  attention  to  Caria,  in  order  to  en- 
counter the  Phoenicians  when  they  should  approach,  the  Sami- 
ans succeeded  in  attacking  and  destroying  Lis  siege- works. 


REVOLT  OF  SAMOS.  215 

He  was  compelled  to  return  to  Samos,  where,  in  consequence 
of  the  arrival  of  succors  from  Athens,  and  through  the  as- 
sistance of  adherents  in  the  island  itself,  he  succeeded  in  com- 
pletely overmastering  the  Samians  and  compelling  them  to 
submit  to  Athens  (b.c.  440).  There  was  no  further  motive 
for  the  despatch  of  a  Phoenician  fleet,  and  accordingly  we 
hear  no  more  of  it.  It  is  very  probable  that  the  Persians 
recalled  to  mind  the  compromise  which  had  been  effected  a 
few  years  before.  They  were  unwilling  to  take  a  course 
which  would  give  the  pretender  in  Egypt,  who  still  held  his 
ground,  the  assistance  of  a  Grecian  fleet.  The  fact  that  the 
oligarchical  party  in  Samos  endeavored  to  support  itself  in  its 
resistance  to  Athens  by  calling  in  the  aid  of  Persia,  lent  to 
the  democracy  of  Athens  a  Panhellenic  coloring  which  be- 
came it  well,  while  the  subjugation  of  that  island  gave  Attica 
a  more  decisive  ascendency  over  the  league  than  she  had 'ever 
before  possessed. 

Pericles  had  instituted  experimental  cruises  once  a  year, 
each  squadron  consisting  of  sixty  ships,  which  were  eight 
months  at  sea ;  and  for  this  the  citizens  who  served  on  board 
received  pay.  In  this  way,  however,  the  fact  was  made  strik- 
ingly apparent  that  the  money  of  the  confederates  was  used 
by  Athens  to  maintain  the  fleet  by  which  she  kept  the  league 
under  her  control.  Pericles  regarded  it  as  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  the  maritime  forces  should  be  ready  for  service  at 
any  moment.  Fresh  attention  was  also  bestowed  upon  the 
improvement  of  the  siege-train,  already  a  point  in  which 
Athenian  strategy  excelled.  Pericles  himself  was  famous  as 
the  inventor  of  the  ram  and  the  testudo,  although  perhaps 
Artemon  had  most  to  do  with  their  invention.  This  also  must 
have  contributed  towards  keeping  the  members  of  tlie  league 
in  a  state  of  subjection. 

The  principal  grievance  of  the  confederates,  that  the  money 
which  they  had  collected  in  order  to  maintain  a  common  cause 
was  arbitrarily  expended  at  Athens,  had  found  an  echo  in 
Athens  itself,  where  there  was  always  more  or  less  a  party  of 
opposition.  Pericles  replied  that  Athens  was  under  an  obliga- 
tion to  protect  the  members  of  the  league ;  provided  she  ful- 
filled this  duty,  it  was  quite  within  her  province  to  dispose  of 


216  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

their  contributions  at  lier  pleasure.  This  disposal  of  public 
moneys  in  the  interest  of  a  single  nationality  dominant  over 
the  rest  was  something  new  in  the  world.  We  still  possess  a 
monument  of  this  epoch  in  the  ruins  of  the  buildings  raised 
by  Pericles,  which  still  enthrall  the  admiration  of  mankind.  In 
the  era  of  Pericles  the  art  of  sculpture  seems  to  have  reached 
its  climax.  The  annals  of  the  Parthenon,  which  Pericles 
erected,  and  against  which  the  waves  of  eventful  fortune  have 
continued  to  break  from  century  to  century  even  to  the  most 
recent  times,  are  a  familiar  tale:  even  the  deportation  of  its 
still  surviving  fragments  is  part  of  that  chain  of  events  which 
links  together  East  and  West.  Let  us  endeavor  to  grasp  the 
historical  conditions  under  which  that  splendid  edifice  was 
raised. 

The  sanctuaries  of  the  citadel  of  Athens,  destroyed  by  the 
Persians,  had  already  been  restored.  Pericles  chose  for  the 
erection  of  an  additional  temple  a  site  which  the  Peisistratidoe 
liad  already  designed  for  that  purpose,  the  still  vacant  area 
of  the  Ilecatompedon.  From  this  elevation  the  view  extends 
from  the  marble  hills  of  Attica,  over  shore  and  sea,  as  far  as 
JEgina.  Here  a  sanctuary  was  constructed,  designed  not  so 
much  for  worship  in  the  strictest  sense  as  for  festal  proces- 
sions, and  with  a  very  practical  and  even  political  object  as 
well.  This  object  was  the  custody  of  the  public  treasure, 
which  was  then  more  considerable  than  ever  before  or  after- 
wards; it  amounted  to  10,000  talents,  a  very  large  part  of 
which,  about  three  fifths,  had  been  contributed  by  the  mem- 
bers of  the  league.  This  sum,  whether  of  coined  money  or 
not,  was  intended,  as  Pericles  himself  once  announced,  for 
prospective  warlike  enterprises  on  a  large  scale,  and  formed 
a  reserve  fund  on  which  Athens,  should  she  find  herself  em- 
barrassed, might  depend.  The  control  of  the  treasury  was 
confided  to  a  number  of  Athenian  citizens ;  the  money  itself, 
however,  was,  as  more  than  one  inscription  testifies,  kept  in 
the  opisihodomoa  of  the  Parthenon.  In  the  cella  were  votive 
offerings  of  great  value,  and  at  the  entrance  stood  the  colossal 
imago  of  the  goddess,  emblematic  of  the  power  and  spirit  and 
the  self-reliance  of  Athens.  The  statue  of  Athene  was  chrys- 
elephantine, and  proceeded,  like  the  Olympian  Zeus,  from 


ATHENS  UNDER  PERICLES.  217 

the  hand  of  Pheidias.  In  one  hand  she  bore  a  Nike,  adorned 
with  garlands,  the  symbol  of  those  victories  to  which  all  was 
due ;  on  the  other  side  were  seen  the  spear  and  shield,  whilst 
on  her  breast  w^as  the  aegis  with  the  Gorgon's  head.  Bold 
indeed  would  have  been  the  hand  that  approached  her  sacri- 
legiously.* 

Even  into  the  great  affairs  of  state  there  entered  a  personal 
element.  The  honors  paid  to  the  victories  over  the  Persians 
magnified  at  the  same  time  the  names  of  Miltiades  and  of 
Kimon,  and  here,  in  like  manner,  the  likeness  of  Pericles  was 
figured  upon  the  shield  of  the  goddess.  It  might  be  said 
that  in  this  monument  the  whole  administration  of  Pericles 
was  imaged — first,  the  great  place  in  the  world  which  he  had 
won  for  Athens ;  next,  her  maritime  preponderance ;  for  the 
members  of  the  league  were  the  servants  of  the  powerful 
capital,  and  had  no  voice  even  in  the  disposal  of  their  own 
money.  The  same  feeling  is  expressed  in  the  other  struct- 
ures of  Pericles.  Such,  for  example,  was  that  theatre  upon 
the  promontory  of  Sunium,  which  had  for  its  spectacle  the 
manoeuvres  of  the  triremes,  and  commanded  a  view  of  the 
Kyklades.  Such,  above  all,  was  Peirjieus,  the  port  of  Athens, 
with  its  spacious  squares,  its  broad  streets,  intersecting  one 
another  at  right  angles,  and  its  separate  harbors  for  the  war- 
like and  the  mercantile  marine,  which  have  served  as  the 
model  of  all  similar  structures  in  later  times.  In  one  of  these 
harbors  was  concentrated  the  power,  in  the  other  the  wealth, 
of  Athens,  in  the  days  of  Pericles. 

In  the  Acropolis  the  ancient  sanctuaries  of  the  city  were, 
so  to  speak,  shut  off  from  the  rest  by  a  row  of  Caryatides. 
Stately  rows  of  columns  served  at  once  to  unite  and  to  sep- 
arate the  upper  and  the  lower  city.  These  were  the  Propylsea, 
the  type  of  wliich  has  formed  a  model  for  all  succeeding 

*  Thus  Pausanius  describes  the  statue  which  he  saw.  Yet  it  is  very 
noteworthy  that  in  the  statuette  which  is  ahnost  universally  acknowl- 
edged to  be  the  best  copy  of  the  original,  and  which  was  found  by  my 
lamented  friend  Lenormant,  ajgis,  spear,  and  shield  are  wanting.  But 
this  is  but  one  among  a  thousand  doubtful  points  connected  with  the 
whole  subject,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  work  of  Michaelis  on  the  Par- 
thenon. 


218  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

efforts  of  art.  In  the  lower  city  Pericles'  established  places 
of  exercise  for  the  future  manhood  of  the  state,  in  the  old 
Lyceum,  as  well  as  in  the  gardens  of  the  Academy,  which, 
refreslied  by  the  waters  of  the  Ilissus,  recovered  their  rural 
aspect.  The  Gymnasium,  the  Lyceum,  the  Academy,  are 
names  the  mere  mention  of  which  enables  us  to  recognize 
how  precious  to  posterity  are  these  institutions,  designed 
alike  for  the  improvement  of  the  body  and  of  the  mind,  and 
serving,  so  to  speak,  as  types  in  the  liistory  of  culture. 
Whether  we  admire  the  policy  of  Pericles  or  not,  the  spirit- 
ual energy  with  which  he  gave  life  to  the  happy  inventions 
of  his  creative  genius  has  raised  up  for  him  an  enduring  mon- 
ument in  the  history  of  our  race.* 

In  the  execution  of  his  buildings  Pericles  was  assisted  by 
a  number  of  men  of  tried  or  rising  ability,  over  whom  Phei- 
dias  exercised  a  certain  superintendence.  It  may  with  good 
reason  be  asserted  that  Pericles,  in  undertaking  these  works, 
had  also  social  and  political  ends  in  view.  He  designed  that 
the  lowest  class  of  citizens,  which  scarcely  took  any  part  in 
the  maritime  expeditions  and  warlike  enterprises,  should  yet 
derive  some  benefit  from  the  state.  He  gave  employment  to 
manual  labor — such  employment,  indeed,  that  the  wliole  arti- 
san class,  whose  assistance  was  invited  b}'^  those  immediately 
concerned  in  the  buildings,  found  adequate  occupation.  No 
one  was  to  be  idle  or  dilatory ;  every  one  was  to  have  the 
means  of  subsistence.  The  buildings  rose  with  a  rapidity 
which  astonished  the  world.f  Athens  became  a  city  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word,  whilst  the  other  Greek  sites  remained 
villages — the  first  city  in  the  West,  and  in  the  world. 

The  works  of  art  which  Pericles  called  into  existence  were 
of  a  religious  nature,  and  the  goddess  to  whose  glory  they 
were  dedicated  was  the  object  of  universal  adoration.  But 
for  that  protection  of  philosophy  to  which  we  have  already 
referred  the  powerful  statesman  had  special  and  personal  mo- 
tives.   In  the  position  which  ho  held,  it  was  an  advantage  to 

♦  The  description  of  Attica  and  Athens,  as  they  were  at  this  epoch, 
may  be  read  with  pleasure  in  Curtius,  "  Gr.  Gesch."  ii.  826  sq. 
t  The  Parthenon  was  completed  in  438,  the  Propyltca  in  433-32. 


RUPTURE  WITH  SPARTA.  219 

him  that  he  was  an  AlcmBeonicl ;  for  nothing  is  more  capti- 
vating to  the  popular  mind  than  the  union  of  personal  merit, 
high  birth,  and  popular  aims.  In  the  case  of  Pericles,  how- 
ever, the  advantage  had  its  darker  side.  The  destiny  of  the 
Alcmseonidse  was  closely  linked  with  a  trespass  against  the 
gods  who  guarded  the  rights  of  asylum — a  trespass  for  which 
they  had  been  forced  to  pay  a  heavy  penalty.  The  purifica- 
tion which  Epimenides  had  made  had  by  no  means  snflSced 
to  efface  the  memory  of  tlie  deed.  It  was  brought  up  once 
more  against  Pericles  himself.  The  Lakedaemonians,  wdio 
saw  in  him  their  most  prominent  enemy,  upon  one  occasion 
called  upon  the  Athenians  to  banish  him  as  one  upon  whom 
a  stain  rested.  Nevertheless,  we  are  told  that  the  denuncia- 
tion, as  coming  from  the  enemy,  made  but  little  impression 
upon  the  people  of  Athens.  Yet  the  Lakedaemonians  had  an 
unbroken  succession  of  sympathizers  in  Athens,  and  we  may 
perhaps  assume  that  in  this  vulnerable  side  of  his  position  lay 
one  motive  for  his  attachment  to  the  philosophers,  and  espe- 
cially to  Anaxagoras,  whose  teaching  included  a  rational  prin- 
ciple, which  gave  no  encouragement  to  accusations  of  this 
kind. 

To  a  similar  motive  may  be  traced  the  reproaches  levelled 
at  his  friend  Aspasia,  who,  not  being  an  Athenian,  could  not 
be  legally  married  to  him,  but  who  lived  with  him  as  his  wife. 
She  was  what  was  called  a  sojyhistria,  with  none  of  the  preju- 
dices which  limited  the  horizon  of  the  Greek  women  gener- 
ally, and  she  fascinated  him  not  only  by  her  beauty,  but  by 
her  genius  and  tlie  charms  of  her  conversation.  She  was  ac- 
cused not  only  of  encouraging  various  domestic  irregularities, 
but  also  of  want  of  reverence  for  the  gods:  she  is  said  to 
have  distinguished  the  women  of  her  household  by  the  names 
of  the  Muses.  Pheidias  incurred  a  similar  suspicion  by  trac- 
ing on  the  shield  of  Athene  the  figures  of  Pericles  and  of 
himself.  Tliis  combination  of  popular  absolutism  with  a 
philosophic  divergence  from  the  popular  belief  provoked  a 
reaction  which  at  times  proved  embarrassing. 

No  one  would  be  inclined  to  deny  the  general  statement 
that  subordinate  motives  of  a  personal  character  have  at  times 
exerted  an  influence  in  affairs  of  the  greatest  compass.    But 


220  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

the  situation  which  we  are  now  to  consider  cannot  be  ex- 
plained by  such  motives.  The  policy  which  Athens  had  fol- 
lowed during  the  years  immediately  preceding  the  time  we 
have  arrived  at  led  inevitably  to  a  breach  with  Sparta.  There 
were,  in  particular,  two  questions  at  issue  which  tended  to 
this  result. 

Pericles  and  the  Athenian  people,  not  content  with  the 
dominion  of  the  eastern  Mediterranean,  had  always  kept  an 
eye  upon  the  "West.  As  they  had  colonized  Sinope,  on  the 
Black  Sea,  so  they  planted  colonies  of  Ionian  descent  in  Italy, 
as,  for  example,  at  Thurii,  and  they  took  part  in  the  founda- 
tion of  Naples.  In  the  West,  however,  the  Dorian  colonies, 
especially  those  from  Corinth,  were  in  the  ascendant,  and  it  was 
not  possible  to  wrest  anything  from  them  as  long  as  they  re- 
mained united.  Accordingly,  the  rupture  which  took  place 
between  Korkyra,  the  principal  Corinthian  colony,  and  the 
mother  city,  must  have  been  a  welcome  event  to  the  Athe- 
nians. A  war  ensued,  in  which  the  Korkyrseans,  just  at  the 
crisis  when  they  were  in  danger  of  being  overpowered,  re- 
ceived support  and  xieliverance  from  Athens.  The  Atheni- 
ans had  more  immediate  cause  to  be  jealous  of  Corinth  than 
of  Sparta.  Their  precarious  relations  with  Megara  were  due 
to  Corinth,  and  at  this  juncture  another  conflict  of  interests 
arose  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Thracian  possessions  of  Ath- 
ens. Here  Athens  had  drawn  into  her  league  towns  which 
were  Corinthian  colonies,  and  which  still  maintained  various 
relations  with  their  mother  city.  This  w^as  especially  the 
case  with  Potidasa;  and  whilst  Athens  would  not  tolerate 
this  intercourse,  Potidoea,  true  to  a  venerable  tradition,  would 
not  desist  from  it.  The  latter  received  support  in  this  quar- 
rel from  the  king  of  Makedonia,  who  saw  with  reluctance  the 
growth  of  the  Athenian  power  in  his  immediate  neighbor- 
hood. It  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  Athens  to  main- 
tain against  this  powerful  king  her  colonies  in  the  North,  and 
the  maritime  preponderance  which  their  possession  lielped  to 
secure.  Kimon  liad  been  blamed  for  not  inflicting,  when  the 
opportunity  presented  itself,  a  crushing  blow  on  the  kingdom 
of  Makedonia.  When  we  reflect  what  consequences  arose  at 
a  later  time  from  the  relations  with  Makedonia,  wo  cannot 


RUPTURE  WITH  SPARTA.  221 

shut  our  eyes  to  tlie  fact  that  an  interest  which  intimately 
concerned  the  whole  Hellenic  world  was  here  in  question. 
The  power  of  the  Athenians  in  the  Korth  formed  a  common 
bulwark  for  all  alike.  But  the  requirements  of  foreign  pol- 
icy are  very  often  found  irreconcilable  with  the  conditions  of 
internal  tranquillity.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  conduct 
of  the  Athenians  in  interfering  in  the  disputes  between  a  me- 
tropolis and  one  of  her  colonies,  and  in  trying  to  sever  the 
ties  by  which  anotlier  was  still  attached  to  her,  did  violence 
to  tlie  fundamental  ideas  of  the  old  Hellenic  world,  and  was 
only  too  well  adapted  to  rouse  lasting  enmity  against  them. 
The  Athenians  could  not,  perhaps,  avoid  this,  since  their 
power  in  the  West  and  North  brought  them  into  conflict 
with  Corinth.  K  Athens  was  to  strengthen  her  power  in  the 
North,  or  extend  it  in  the  West,  a  struggle  with  Corinth  was 
inevitable.  Such  a  struggle,  however,  could  not  fail  to  bring 
into  the  completest  relief  the  old  opposition  between  Athens 
and  Sparta.  Both  in  Potidaea  and  in  Korkyra  Athens  en- 
countered that  Dorian  element  which  had  its  chief  support 
in  the  power  of  Lakedssmon.  The  Lakedsemonians  hesitated 
for  a  while,  but  presently  made  demands,  especially  one  for 
the  autonomy  of  all  Greek  cities,  with  which  Athens  could 
not  have  complied  without  renouncing  her  whole  system. 
Pericles,  in  spite  of  this  protest,  boldly  determined  to  con- 
tinue his  course.  The  question  was  not  whether  he  should 
undertake  the  war,  but  whether  he  could  avoid  it.  Pericles 
would  not  abandon  the  policy  he  had  hitherto  pursued,  even 
at  the  risk  of  war  with  Sparta.  In  the  speech  to  the  people 
which  is  ascribed  to  him,  special  prominence  is  given  to  the 
advantage  which  naval  forces  have  over  land  forces  in  open 
warfare.  The  naval  power  of  Athens  was,  in  fact,  the  main- 
spring of  every  public  act,  and  the  democratic  people  followed 
implicitly  the  line  of  thought  taken  by  its  leader.  The  way 
in  which  the  Spartans  viewed  the  matter  is  clear  from  the 
declaration  of  one  of  the  Ephors  that  they  could  not  allow 
the  Athenians  to  become  any  greater,  or  see  the  members  of 
the  league  sacrificed  to  their  ambition. 

We  may,  perhaps,  at  this  point,  recall  to  mind  the  last 
accommodation,  by  which  the  power  of  Athens  was  checked 


222  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

upon  the  mainland  and  directed  towards  the  sea.  On  the 
latter  element  Athens  had  now  become  so  strong  that  she 
could  not  have  endured  any  subordination  to  Sparta,  such  as 
would  have  been  implied  in  her  giving  way  to  the  allies  of 
Sparta  in  the  North  and  West.  Thus  the  Delian  League 
was,  so  to  speak,  encroaching  npon  the  province  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Spartans  made  demands 
— such,  for  example,  as  that  for  the  abrogation  of  a  decree 
made  to  prevent  the  commerce  of  the  Megarians  in  Attica — 
which  galled  the  proud  independence  of  a  free  community. 
At  this  time,  also,  the  Thebans,  who  were  allies  of  Sparta, 
made  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Athens  an  attempt 
to  master  Plataea,  an  ally  of  Athens,  which  led  to  proceed- 
ings of  extraordinary  violence.^  Thus  the  war  became  inev- 
itable. 

The  Lakedsemonians,  under  their  king,  Archidamus,  took 
the  field.  An  emissary  was  sent  by  them  on  purpose  to  as- 
certain whether,  now  that  the  war  was  really  imminent,  the 
Athenians  were  not  alarmed,  and  accessible  to  peaceful  sug- 
gestions. But  the  Athenians  sent  him  back  without  so  much 
as  hearing  him,  and  refused  to  accept  any  proposals  from  an 
enemy  in  the  field.  Pericles,  to  whose  influence  this  resolu- 
tion may  be  traced,  had  already  made  preparations  such  as  he 
thought  would  enable  him  to  brave  without  anxiety  an  inva- 
sion of  the  enemy.  Never  was  the  authority  of  a  leading  cit- 
izen, who  still  remained  but  a  citizen  like  the  rest,  more  sig- 
nally displayed.  His  intention  was  to  limit  the  defence  to  the 
city  and  a  few  strong  places ;  the  open  country  he  resigned 
unreservedly  to  the  enemy.  In  the  country  the  old  indepen- 
dent life  of  its  different  inhabitants,  which  liad  been  inter- 
rupted some  centuries  before  by  the  imion  of  all  in  one  city, 
was  not  yet  forgotten ;  after  the  devastation  of  the  Persian 
wars  the  proprietors  had  established  themselves  again,  and 
loved  to  spend  their  daj^s  upon  their  estates.     By  the  ordi- 

♦  From  this  event  the  breaking-out  of  the  Peloponncsian  war  is  dated ; 
in  fact,  Thukydides  himself  makes  this  the  stiirting-point  (ii.  c,  1  ad  in.). 
According  to  the  calculations  of  BOckh  ('*ZurGcschichte  der  Mondcyclen,'* 
p.  78  sq.)  the  surprise  of  Plataea  took  place  in  the  beginning  of  April, 
481(01.87,1). 


OUTBREAK  OF  WAR  223 

nance  passed  at  the  instance  of  Pericles,  through  which  they 
were,  one  and  all,  compelled  to  abandon  house  and  home,  and 
to  withdraw  into  the  city,  they  were  touched  in  the  most 
sensitive  point.  Nevertheless,  they  acquiesced ;  many  even 
broke  away  the  woodwork  of  their  houses,  and  took  it  with 
them  within  the  walls.  In  their  search  for  places  in  which 
to  establish  themselves,  they  were  directed  to  whatever  open 
spaces  still  remained,  or  to  the  temples  and  shrines,  which 
were  made  over  to  them.  Their  discomfort  increased  their 
ill -humor,  wliich  reached  its  climax  when  the  Lakedoemo- 
nians  burst  into  Attica,  and  the  population  pent  within  the 
walls  saw  their  property  ravaged  almost  before  their  eyes, 
without  being  allowed  to  employ  their  arms  in  self-defence. 
It  was  part  of  the  design  of  Pericles  to  avoid  a  battle  in  the 
open  field ;  only  the  strong  places  and  fortresses  were  to  be 
held ;  the  real  battle  was  to  be  fought  on  the  sea.  The  idea 
which  had  been  ascribed  to  Themistocles  was  thus  realized  in 
its  fullest  extent,  although  under  circumstances  very  different 
to  those  originally  contemplated.  For  Themistocles  had  com- 
bated the  national  enemy,  who  menaced  the  country  with  per- 
petual bondage.  The  LakedaBmonians  only  wished  to  prevent 
the  predominance  of  Athens,  and  to  maintain  the  balance  of 
power.  Yet  the  consequence  was  now,  no  less  than  then,  that 
the  open  country  was  laid  waste  far  and  wide.  Pericles  de- 
signed to  retaliate  for  the  ravages  committed  in  Attica  by  rav- 
ages in  Laconia ;  the  Lakedsemonians,  however,  were  able  to 
send  timely  assistance  to  defend  the  places  menaced,  and  as 
yet  the  descents  made  by  the  Athenians  were  affairs  of  no 
great  moment. 

There  was,  however,  another  action  of  theirs  which  augured 
hostilities  of  the  severest  character.  Amid  the  confusions 
occasioned  by  the  accession  of  Megara  to  the  Athenian  league 
and  the  alliance  formed  in  consequence  between  Corinth,  Ep- 
idaurus,  and  ^gina,  the  Athenians  had  succeeded  in  getting 
possession  of  ^gina  itself,  and  the  island  was  compelled  to 
give  up  its  fleet  and  to  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  Ath- 
ens. The  Spartans,  being  at  that  time  at  peace  with  Athens, 
bad  not  interfered.  But,  when  the  war  broke  out,  ^gina,  as 
being  situated  between  the  regions  in  which  the  rival  powers 


224:  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

were  respectively  supreme,  became  the  natural  object  of  their 
mutual  jealousy.  Sparta  demanded  the  liberation  of  ^gina ; 
Athens  ascribed  the  hostility  of  Sparta  to  the  instigation  of 
the  discontented  ^ginetans.  On  the  outbreak  of  war  she 
resolved  to  render  the  island  incapable  of  any  resistance,  and 
not  merely  to  subdue  it — that,  indeed,  she  had  already  done 
— but  to  appropriate  it  entirely.  It  was  as  if  the  old  antago- 
nism between  Dorians  and  lonians  were  here  reappearing, 
with  no  attempt  at  disguise.  The  ^ginetans,  who  were  of 
Dorian  stock,  were  expelled,  with  their  wives  and  children, 
from  their  possessions,  which  were  divided  among  Athenian 
kleruchs,  who  were  regarded  as  lonians  by  descent.  Some  of 
the  exiles  found  an  asylum  in  Spartan  territory,  such  as  the 
Athenians  had  on  a  former  occasion  provided  for  the  Messe- 
nians. 

Such  an  event  was  well  adapted  to  revive  the  old  enmity 
between  Dorians  and  lonians,  and  nothing  was  to  be  expected 
but  a  long  and  bitter  struggle.  The  Athenians  had  never 
been  more  powerful ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Lakedaemo- 
nians  were  in  a  condition  to  maintain  the  balance  against 
them.  The  situation  of  the  Athenians  involved,  indeed,  pos- 
sible perils,  but  at  the  same  time  held  out  to  them  magnificent 
prospects,  when  they  were  visited  by  a  misfortune  for  which 
no  human  being  could  have  been  prepared.  In  the  second 
year  of  the  war  a  pestilent  malady  broke  out,  against  which 
no  effective  remedy  could  be  discovered,  and  which  demanded 
innumerable  victims.  Whole  families  perished.  It  is  proba- 
ble that  the  plague  was  introduced  through  the  commerce  by 
sea  from  Ethiopia  and  Egypt,  where,  it  is  said,  it  had  first  ap- 
peared ;  for  it  manifested  itself  first  in  the  port  of  Athens. 
But  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  gathering  of  the  popula- 
tion in  the  capital  under  the  circumstances  we  have  already 
mentioned — circumstances  so  pernicious  to  physical  well-be- 
ing— contributed  much  to  the  intensity  and  to  the  spread  of 
the  disease.  The  disease,  if  originally  due  to  other  causes, 
was  able  to  attack  a  closely  packed  population  with  disastrous 
effect.  An  oracle  was  quoted,  according  to  which  a  curso 
had  been  laid  upon  any  attempt  to  build  in  certain  quarters 
remoto  from  tho  centre  of  tbo  city.    Thukydides  observes 


THE  PLAGUE  AT  ATHENS.  225 

that  the  misfortune  arose,  not  from  the  curse,  but  from  the 
circumstances  which  rendered  building  in  these  regions  a 
necessity.  The  pestilence  at  that  time  broke  out  only  in 
populous  places,  and  the  Peloponnesus,  where  everything  con- 
tinued under  the  old  and  familiar  conditions,  was  unassailed 
by  it.  At  the  very  moment  when  it  broke  out  in  Athens, 
Archidamus  and  his  army  had  once  more  advanced  into  At- 
tica. In  consequence  of  the  fresh  immigration,  especially  of 
the  humbler  classes,  which  was  thus  occasioned,  the  pestilence 
increased  in  severity,  and  the  Spartans  found  no  real  opposi- 
tion. But  the  smoke  wliich  rose  from  the  cremation  of  the 
dead  in  the  city  reminded  them  that  they  might  themselves 
catch  the  infection,  and  they  withdrew  without  delay.  Mean- 
while the  sickness,  which  seemed  to  bo  in  alliance  with  tho 
Spartans,  appeared  in  the  Athenian  fleet  as  well.  The  fleet 
had  again  attempted  descents,  in  which  it  had  succeeded  bet- 
ter than  in  the  previous  year,  and  had  done  considerable  dam- 
age. The  spectacle  of  two  powers,  which,  if  united,  might 
have  achieved  a  world-wide  influence,  tearing  each  other  to 
pieces  in  this  furious  and  hopeless  struggle,  is  indeed  a  fear- 
ful one  to  contemplate. 

The  situation  of  Pericles  in  Athens  itself  grew  daily  more 
difficult.  In  consequence  of  the  devastation  of  the  country 
and  of  the  pestilence  he  lost  the  good -will  of  the  people, 
ready,  as  usual,  to  attribute  every  calamity  to  its  leaders. 
Scarcely,  however,  had  he  recovered  his  authority  when  the 
pestilence,  now  almost  extinct,  seized  him  and  carried  liim  off 
(cir.  Sept.  429  B.C.). 

Pericles  is  one  of  those  leaders  of  aristocratic  origin  wlio, 
having  placed  themselves  at  the  head  of  the  people,  have 
roused  them  to  the  kind  of  life  proper  to  democracy.  Ho 
cannot  be  compared  to  Aristeides,  or  even  to  Solon.  He  had 
not  the  moral  purity  of  impulse  by  which  these  were  guided. 
He  followed  completely  in  the  footsteps  of  his  great  uncle 
Cleisthenes.  Cleisthenes  was  the  proper  founder  of  the 
Demos,  and  Pericles  made  tho  Demos  master  of  the  whole 
bod}^  politic,  and  so  perfected  its  organization  that  the  possi- 
bility of  reviving  the  aristocratic  principle  seemed  almost  out 
of  the  question.     The  aim  which  prompted  all  his  acts  was 

15 


226  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

the  development  of  the  power  of  Athens.  This  end  the  de- 
mocracy itself  was  adapted  to  further,  inasmucli  as  there  were 
democratic  movements  taking  place  in  every  part  of  Greece, 
which  now  sought  support  in  Athens.  At  the  same  time, 
however,  Pericles  made  the  authority  of  Athens  over  the 
maritime  league  so  strong  as  to  overbear  all  resistance.  He 
prevented  the  formation  of  any  connections  with  Persia 
among  the  members  of  the  league,  and  suppressed  by  force 
of  arms  the  attempt  made  by  the  most  important  among  the 
islands  to  assume  an  independent  position. 

The  greatness  of  the  city  was  founded  upon  her  influence 
as  a  democracy  and  as  a  maritime  power.  In  each  of  these 
directions  Pericles  came  in  conflict  with  Sparta,  not  to  speak 
of  the  antagonism  which  he  inherited  as  an  Alcmseonid.  He 
was  well  aware  that  he  was  not  a  match  for  the  power  of  the 
Peloponnesians  on  land,  but,  in  order  not  to  succumb  to  it  at 
the  first  onset,  he  had  recourse  to  a  method  which,  however 
heroic  in  itself,  was  destined  to  be  fatal  to  himself  and  to 
Athens.  It  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  possible,  whilst  sacri- 
ficing the  open  country  to  the  inroads  of  the  Peloponnesians, 
to  maintain  and  even  to  strengthen  the  substantial  power  of 
Athens,  and  thus  to  establish  her  maritime  preponderance  on 
a  secure  basis ;  while  the  enemy's  attacks  by  land  would  have 
to  be  gradually  abandoned,  had  they  led  to  no  result.  It  was 
a  tragic  fatality  which,  as  we  have  seen,  frustrated  these  an- 
ticipations by  the  intervention  of  natural  forces  against  which 
no  foresight  could  have  provided.  That  pestilence  broke  out 
wliich  is  known  to  every  reader  through  the  incomparable 
description  of  Thukydides.  It  crippled  forever  the  efforts  of 
Athens,  and  brought  the  life  of  Pericles  to  an  end  in  the  full 
tide  of  his  active  career.  To  what  goal  he  would  have  guided 
Athens  few  would  be  bold  enough  to  conjecture.  However 
vast  his  enterprises,  ideal  aims  and  the  sense  of  beauty  had 
the  same  fascination  as  ever  for  his  spirit.  By  one  side  of 
his  character  he  was  led  in  promoting  art  to  strengthen  re- 
ligion, by  the  other  in  promoting  philosophy  to  clear  the  way 
for  freedom  of  scientific  inquiry.  The  result  lias  been  that 
one  of  the  great  epochs  of  culture  is  designated  by  his  name. 
If  there  be  earthly  immortality,  it  is  this. 


CLEON.  227 

The  death  of  Pericles  was  followed  by  radical  changes  in 
the  state.  It  is  a  general  truth  that  men  of  high  importance 
can  never  be  replaced,  unless,  indeed,  the  circumstances  could 
be  repeated  out  of  which  all  that  made  their  position  indi- 
vidual has  grown.  The  death  of  the  great  leader  and  first 
citizen  was  doubly  felt,  because  he  left  no  successor.  Amid 
all  the  agitation  of  democracy  Pericles  had  maintained  unim- 
paired the  unity  which  results  from  a  guiding  idea.  After 
his  death  a  general  disintegration  was  inevitable,  and  the  di- 
visions which  he  had  been  able  to  keep  in  abeyance  refused 
any  longer  to  be  postponed. 

3.  Clemi  and  his  Epoch. 
Among  the  opponents  of  Pericles  who  towards  the  close 
of  his  career  struggled  against  the  power  with  which  he  was 
invested,  one  of  the  most  energetic  was  Cleon,  a  man  whom 
the  great  comic  poet  of  the  time  has  exposed  to  the  derision 
and  contempt  of  posterity.  Cleon  was  one  of  the  industrial 
order,  and  supported  himself  by  a  tannery,  in  which  he  em- 
ployed slaves.  His  business  bringing  him  into  contact  with 
those  classes  which  formed  the  great  bulk  of  the  citizens,  he 
shared  their  sentiments  and  expressed  their  views  in  effective 
speeches,  and  thus  after  the  death  of  Pericles  attained  pre- 
dominant influence.  He  was  a  man  of  humble  origin,  with- 
out the  education  which  was  then  regarded  as  essential, 
whether  for  private  or  public  life.  But  from  the  very  nature 
of  democracy  it  was  to  be  expected  that  a  man  of  this  kind 
might  make  his  influence  felt  in  the  vortex  of  political  strife. 
In  Aristophanes  Cleon  appears  as  "  the  heaven-hated  tanner," 
the  "scandalous  bawler,"  the  "raker-up  of  filth,"  with  whose 
rancor  all  public  deliberations  and  trials  are  tainted.  In  one 
play  he  is  represented  as  the  steward  of  Demos,  who  contrives 
to  rule  his  master  and  ill-treat  all  the  other  slaves.  It  is  one 
of  the  acts  upon  which  Aristophanes  prides  himself,  that  when 
no  one  had  sufficient  courage  to  put  on  the  mask  of  Cleon  for 
the  forthcoming  representation  of  this  piece  at  the  Lenaean 
festival,  he  himself  undertook  the  part,  a  step  by  which  he 
necessarily  incurred  the  deadly  hatred  of  the  satirized  dema- 
gogue. 


228  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

This  picture  has  in  later  times  been  regarded  as  historical ; 
yet  I  should  not  venture  to  give  a  place  in  history  even  to 
isolated  traits  from  it,  so  natural  was  it  for  comedy  to  bring 
upon  the  stage  a  caricature  adapted  to  the  humors  of  the 
time.  The  representation  has  no  doubt  some  traits  of  truth, 
on  which  it  must  have  depended  for  its  effectiveness,  but  its 
sole  support  is  the  inventive  malice  of  the  poet.  If  we  wush, 
I  will  not  say  to  defend,  but  to  judge  of  Cleon,  we  must  only 
try  to  estimate  the  share  which  he  really  took  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  state ;  and  there  we  see  evidences  of  a  fierce 
and  violent  disposition.  We  must  proceed  without  delay  to 
speak  of  the  conflicts  in  which  he  took  a  prominent  part, 
because  they  bring  into  distinctness  those  relations  between 
Athens  and  her  maritime  confederacy  which  form  one  of  the 
most  important  among  the  motive  forces  of  the  time. 

Cleon  appears  as  a  democratic  leader  who  despised  no 
means  by  which  he  might  win  and  secure  the  favor  of  the 
multitude.  From  him  proceeded  the  increase  of  the  pay  of 
the  heliasts  to  three  times  its  previous  amount,  a  heavy  bur- 
den to  the  state,  which,  however,  served  to  establish  in  the 
popular  assembly  a  party  absolutely  under  the  control  of  the 
demagogue.  The  nature  of  his  influence  may  be  gathered 
from  his  conduct  upon  the  revolt  of  Lesbos.  This  revolt  im- 
plied an  attempt  to  break  through  the  whole  system  upon 
which  the  power  of  Athens  depended.  The  Lesbians  were 
the  most  powerful  of  the  allies  of  Athens  in  the  league,  and 
the  least  burdened  of  any,  but,  as  it  is  expressed  in  the  speech 
which  Thukydides  attributes  to  their  ambassador,  it  was 
only  mutual  fear  which  maintained  even  a  tolerable  under- 
standing between  Athens  and  Lesbos.  To  the  Athenians  the 
considerable  naval  power  possessed  by  the  Lesbians  was  a 
source  of  suspicion  and  annoyance,  whilst  the  superiority  of 
the  Athenians  excited  in  the  Lesbians  feelings  of  anxiety 
and  mistrust,  and  they  were  afraid  that  after  being  employed 
to  subjugate  others  they  would  themselves  have  to  undergo 
the  same  fate  in  their  turn.  So  long  as  Athens  was  in  full 
possession  of  her  overwhelming  power  they  kept  quiet.  But 
the  Athenians  had  now  been  weakened  by  the  various  costly 
enterprises  on  which  they  embarked,  and  more  still  by  the 


REVOLT  OF  LESBOS.  229 

pestilence,  whilst  at  the  same  time  the  vicissitudes  of  the  war 
encouraged  the  Lesbians  to  hope  for  the  support  of  Lake- 
daemon,  to  whom  they  had  previously  appealed  in  vain.  They 
began  therefore  seriously  to  entertain  the  idea  of  opposing 
the  Athenians. 

The  Athenians  heard  of  the  first  steps  taken  in  this  direc- 
tion, and  hastened  to  encounter  them.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Mytilenseans,  who  headed  the  movement  in  Lesbos,  learned 
what  was  intended  against  them,  and  prepared  to  secure  their 
own  safety.  Accordingly,  when  the  Athenians  required  the 
Mytilenseans  to  destroy  their  fortifications  and  deliver  up 
their  ships,  the  latter  resolved  to  refuse  such  a  demand  (July, 
428  B.C.).  Nor  had  they  much  trouble  in  drawing  to  their 
side  the  Lakedaemonians  and  the  Peloponnesian  league.  The 
chief  inducement  was  the  hope  that  all  the  members  of  the 
Delian  League  would  then  take  the  same  course,  and  be  en- 
abled to  sever  their  connection  with  Athens,  a  blow  by  which 
her  power  would  be  utterly  annihilated.  The  mere  fact  that 
Lesbos  abandoned  the  Athenian  league  and  passed  over  to 
the  Peloponnesian  was  in  itself  a  momentous  reverse.  Yet 
the  consequences  were  disastrous  to  Mytilene.  The  Pelopon- 
nesians  did  indeed  send  a  fleet  to  sea,  but  it  did  not  make  its 
appearance  in  the  JEgean  until  it  was  too  late.  The  Athe- 
nians, with  their  wonted  promptitude,  had  brought  all  their 
forces  to  bear  upon  Mytilene,  and  had  a  portion  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  island  on  their  side ;  they  were  chiefly  as- 
sisted, however,  by  a  democratic  movement  in  the  city  itself. 
The  constitution  of  Mytilene  was  oligarchical,  and  thus  far 
relations  were  already  established 'between  the  city  and  the 
Peloponnesians.  But  in  the  urgent  danger  of  their  invest- 
ment by  the  Athenians,  who  established  also  some  smaller 
fortifications,  from  which  they  pressed  the  city  hard,  the 
Mytilenseans  resolved  to  arm  the  populace,  and  that  too  with 
the  equipment  of  heavy-armed  troops.  Herein  they  followed 
the  advice  of  a  Lakedsemonian  emissary,  but  the  result  quite 
belied  their  expectations.  Once  in  possession  of  these  arms, 
the  commons  of  Mytilene  thought  they  might  renounce  their 
allegiance  to  the  ruling  families,  and,  by  threatening  to  desert 
to  the  Athenians,  they  compelled  the  authorities  to  conclude 


230  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

a  peace  with  the  latter,  the  conditions  of  which  implied  noth- 
ing less  than  a  surrender  at  discretion.  The  democracy  of 
Athens  was  in  league  with  the  democrats  of  Mytilene.  The 
popular  assembly  at  Athens,  in  which  Cleon's  voice  was  at 
this  time  paramount,  had  an  opportunity  of  sitting  in  judg- 
ment upon  the  men  who  were  doubly  their  enemies,  antago- 
nistic alike  to  their  polity  and  their  power.  The  first  resolu- 
tion of  the  Athenians  was  accordingly  such  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected from  the  rage  to  which  they  were  transported  by  the 
conduct  of  Mytilene,  a  rage  which  the  powerful  demagogue 
fanned  into  a  flame. 

The  principal  offenders,  nearly  a  thousand  in  number,  had 
been  sent  by  the  Athenian  admiral  to  Tenedos.  The  resolu- 
tion of  the  assembly  was  to  execute  not  only  these,  but  with 
them  all  the  adult  Mytilenaeans,  and  to  make  their  wives  and 
children  slaves,  in  the  exercise  of  that  terrible  right  of  war 
out  of  which,  as  we  have  shown,  slavery  first  and  principally 
arose  in  the  East.  Cleon  insisted  upon  this,  maintaining  that 
the  whole  body  of  the  people  was  guilty,  not  the  leadei*s 
alone ;  that  the  revolt  had  taken  place  without  any  justifica- 
tion whatever,  and  must  be  punished  without  mercy,  in  order 
to  deter  others  who  might  be  inclined  to  follow  this  example ; 
that  otherwise  the  power  of  Athens,  which  was  derived  from 
the  contributions  of  the  members  of  the  league,  would  be  in 
danger  of  collapsing.  The  thing  seemed,  he  said,  so  obvious 
that  he  suspected  all  who  were  of  a  different  opinion  of  hav- 
ing proved  accessible  to  bribes  from  the  Mytilenseans.  It 
was,  in  fact,  Cleon's  intention  to  exact  a  revenge  of  unmiti- 
gated severity,  which  would  be  effective  in  proportion  to  its 
speedy  execution,  and  would  serve  to  keep  the  whole  league 
in  check.  lie  was  so  far  successful  that  a  ship  was  de- 
spatched to  the  general  in  command  at  Lesbos  with  direc- 
tions to  carry  out  the  punishment  without  delay. 

But  Cleon  had  not  yet  disposed  of  all  opposition.  On  the 
following  day  the  question  was  brought  once  more  before  the 
popular  assembly,  and  Diodotus,  one  of  Cleon's  antagonists, 
rose  to  give  effect  to  the  arguments  on  the  other  side.  He 
rejected  triumphantly  and  with  dignity  the  insinuations  of 
Cleon.    Adopting  the  premise  of  Cleon,  that  the  naval  do- 


CLEON  AND  DIODOTUS.  231 

minion  and  the  support  derived  from  it  must  be  maintained 
at  any  cost,  he  showed  that  this  end  could  not  be  reached  by 
punishing  all  desertions  with  death  and  destruction ;  deser- 
tions would  still  take  place,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to  be 
always  engaged  in  besieging  and  overpowering  suspected  al- 
lies, who,  when  they  had  nothing  but  the  extreme  of  ven- 
geance to  expect,  would  be  driven  to  defend  themselves  to 
the  last  drop  of  their  blood.  The  best  policy  was  to  take 
care  of  the  interests  of  their  allies,  and  to  avoid  vexatious  in- 
terference with  them.  The  speeches  both  for  and  against  are 
set  side  by  side  in  tlie  inimitable  account  given  by  the  his- 
torian of  the  epoch.  Cleon  does  not  deny  that  tlie  dominion 
which  was  exercised  was  a  tyranny ;  if  the  Athenians  have 
no  just  right  to  it,  their  duty  is,  he  argues,  to  give  it  up  and 
lead  quiet  lives  at  home  ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  they  think 
they  have  a  title  to  empire,  they  must  shrink  from  no  extreme 
of  violence  in  order  to  maintain  it.  Though  Diodotus  ob- 
jected that  such  a  course  was  more  likely  to  imperil  than  to 
consolidate  their  dominion,  a  doubt  may  well  be  entertained 
whether  he  could  have  made  much  impression  by  an  argu- 
ment in  itself  of  questionable  cogency ;  but  he  adduced  an- 
other which  was  well  adapted  to  strike  home.  In  all  the 
cities  connected  with  the  league  there  were  two  parties,  the 
one  aristocratic  and  averse  from  the  Athenians,  the  other 
democratic  and  inclining  to  their  side.  The  victory  in  Les- 
bos had  been  due  simply  to  the  fact  that  the  commons,  so 
soon  as  the  opportunity  was  given  them,  set  themselves  in 
opposition  to  the  aristocracy.  To  execute  the  decree  already 
passed  would  have  been  nothing  less  than  to  annihilate  the 
natural  allies  of  Athens.  All  the  democracies  which  formed 
part  of  the  league  would  have  been  alienated  at  a  single 
stroke. 

So  great  was  the  influence  of  Cleon  that  the  result  was  still 
uncertain  ;  but  when  the  question  was  put  to  the  vote  the 
resolution  of  the  previous  day  was  rescinded,  and  another 
vessel  was  sent  after  the  one  which  had  already  departed  with 
the  message,  the  former  being  amply  furnished  with  every- 
thing needful  to  enable  and  to  encourage  the  oarsmen  to  re- 
lieve one  another  at  their  work,  and  thus  to  secure  a  rapid 


232  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

passage.  The  consequence  was  that  the  second  vessel  entered 
the  liarbor  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Athenian  com- 
mander was  reading  the  first  despatch,  which  had  just  reached 
him,  and  which  was  now  recalled.  Tlie  city  suffered  no  fur- 
ther punishment,  but  the  principal  offenders,  who  were  then 
at  Tenedos,  were  executed  without  exception — a  savage  re- 
venge, which  nevertheless,  as  w^e  have  seen,  was  by  compari- 
son an  act  of  grace.  Tliese  events  took  place  in  the  spring  of 
427  B.C.  The  main  result  was  that  tlie  maritime  ascendency 
of  Athens  in  the  archipelago  remained  unimpaired.  A  Lake- 
daemon  ian  fleet  which  appeared  in  these  waters  returned  home 
again,  having  effected  nothing.  The  celebration  of  a  great 
festival  at  Delos  was  utilized  in  order  to  lend  a  religious  sanc- 
tion to  the  restored  supremacy  of  Athens. 

By  land,  however,  the  Peloponnesians  maintained  their  su- 
periority. The  reduction  of  Plataea,  which,  after  a  long  and 
strenuous  resistance,  fell  in  the  summer  of  427  b.c.  into  the 
hands  of  the  Thebans,  was  a  sensible  loss  to  Athens.  The 
victorious  Thebans  surpassed  even  the  Athenians  in  atrocity. 
They  had  promised  the  vanquished,  on  their  withdrawal  from 
the  town,  that  their  lives  should  be  secure,  but  when  the  latter 
came  out  they  were  slaughtered  to  a  man.  The  Athenian 
general,  Demosthenes,  conceived  the  bold  design  of  interfer- 
ing in  the  disputes  between  Acarnania  and  ^tolia,  and  thus 
opening  for  himself  a  way  by  land  by  which  he  might  pass 
into  Boeotia,  in  order  to  restore  the  balance  in  these  parts  also 
(summer  of  426  b.c).  His  plan,  however,  was  ruined  by  the 
instantaneous  rising  of  the  ^tolian  districts,  the  inhabitants 
of  which  still  clung  to  a  primitive  simplicity  of  life ;  and  when 
the  fortune  of  war  turned  once  more  in  favor  of  the  Atheni- 
ans, the  Acarnanians  thought  it  their  best  course  to  put  an 
end  to  their  disputes  with  their  neighboi*s  by  a  truce  for  a 
hundred  yeai*s.  At  a  later  date  the  complications  between 
these  outlying  regions  bore  with  decisive  results  upon  the 
great  events  of  history  ;  not  so,  however,  at  this  time. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Athenians  succeeded  in  striking  a 
blow  in  the  Peloponnesus  itself,  which  the  Ljikedremonians 
felt  most  keenly.  Almost  by  mere  accident,  in  the  course  of 
a  voyage  to  the  western  waters,  the  Athenians,  under  the 


SPHACTERIA.  233 

command,  as  before,  of  Demosthenes,  whose  views  in  this 
matter  were,  however,  not  at  all  approved  by  the  other  officers 
of  the  fleet,  established  themselves  in  the  harbor  of  Pylos, 
which  the  Spartans  had  neglected  (June,  425  b.c.)  Hastily, 
but  with  the  best  success,  they  erected  upon  the  rugged  and 
precipitous  shore  a  little  fortification,  which  they  proceeded 
to  occupy.  The  pride  of  the  Lakedsemonians  was  outraged 
by  seeing  their  hated  enemy  in  possession  of  a  stronghold 
within  their  own  territory.  They  hastened  at  once  to  expel 
the  intruders,  but  the  Athenians  were  sufficiently  prepared 
for  attack  to  repel  the  fii-st  attempt  to  effect  a  landing,  in 
which  the  brave  Spartan  general  Brasidas  was  wounded. 
Soon  afterwards  the  main  fleet  of  the  Athenians,  on  their 
return  from  their  expedition  to  the  West,  entered  the  harbor, 
and  inflicted  upon  the  Lakedsemonians,  who  had  also  brought 
up  their  fleet  to  secure  the  place,  losses  which  ahnost  amounted 
to  a  defeat.  The  principal  incident  of  the  struggle  was,  how- 
ever, yet  to  follow.  Into  the  island  of  Sphacteria,  which  lay 
before  the  entrance  of  the  harbor,  the  Lakedsemonians  had 
thrown  a  division  of  hoplites,  taken  partly  from  their  own 
forces,  partly  from  those  of  their  allies,  and  this  detachment, 
severed  from  the  rest  by  the  Athenian  fleet,  which  was  now 
master  of  the  sea,  seemed  irrevocably  doomed  to  the  terrible 
fate  with  which  in  these  times  the  victor  was  accustomed  to 
visit  his  vanquished  enemy. 

In  Lakedaemon  their  peril  excited  the  greatest  commotion, 
especially  since  many  of  those  who  were  shut  up  in  the  island 
belonged  to  the  most  influential  families  in  the  land.  The 
Spartans  resolved  to  make  proposals  for  peace  at  Athens,  and 
an  arrangement  was  made  with  the  Athenian  generals  that, 
until  these  proposals  were  accepted  or  rejected,  hostilities  in 
the  harbor  of  Pylos  and  upon  the  island  should  be  suspended. 
A  Lakedsemonian  embassy  was  sent  to  offer  the  Athenians 
not  merely  peace  and  friendship,  but  an  alliance,  if  they  would 
but  let  the  troops  upon  the  island  go  free.  It  was  repre- 
sented to  the  Athenians  how  unwise  it  was  to  add  private  and 
inexpiable  enmities  to  the  public  causes  of  quarrel,  and  how 
well  the  opportunity  might  be  improved  in  restoring  peace  to 
both  republics  and  to  the  Greeks  at  large.     But  the  leading 


234  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

demagogue  explained  to  them  that  they  had  a  prize  in  their 
hands,  for  the  redemption  of  which  they  might  exact  far 
more  than  this,  and  he  was  not  contented  with  tliat  restitu- 
tion of  the  status  quo,  w^hich  was  all  that  the  offer  of  the 
Lakedaemonians  implied.  He  thought  that  they  might  be 
brought  to  give  back  once  more  the  places  which  Pericles  had 
resigned  to  them  on  the  conclusion  of  the  thirty  years'  truce. 
These  places,  however,  had  either  been  reinstated  in  their  old 
independence  or  restored  to  their  former  possessors.  The 
whole  arrangement  had  been  a  compromise  by  which  the 
Athenians  had  received  great  compensating  advantages. 

The  Lakedasmonian  ambassadors,  confounded  by  such  ex- 
travagant claims,  suggested  the  appointment  of  a  commission 
with  which  they  might  quietly  discuss  points  of  detail.  But 
their  proposal  excited  the  most  violent  opposition  on  the  part 
of  Cleon,  who  would  not  hear  of  any  negotiations  except  such 
as  were  conducted  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  people,  where, 
as  he  knew,  the  decision  would  depend  upon  himself.  What- 
ever else  we  may  think  of  Cleon,  he  must  be  admitted  to 
have  played  an  important  part  in  history ;  it  was  through  him 
that,  at  a  moment  exceptionally  favorable  for  the  termination 
of  a  war  which  had  ceased  to  have  any  true  raison  d^etre,  the 
negotiations  for  peace  were  broken  off.  We  may  distinguish 
two  classes  of  politicians — those  who  have  the  present  situa- 
tion, and  the  gains  it  immediately  offers,  exclusively  in  view  ; 
and  those  who  take  account  of  consequences  and  of  tlie  dan- 
ger of  provoking  a  general  resistance  which  may  in  the  end 
prove  overwhelming.  It  was  to  the  former  class  that  the 
high-handed  and  tempestuous  demagogue  of  Athens  belonged. 
He  was  simply  concerned  to  profit  to  the  utmost  by  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  moment,  as  the  best  means  of  attracting  a  ma- 
jority of  voices  in  his  favor.  The  notion  that  the  war,  if  it 
were  resumed,  might  have  an  unfortunate  issue  for  Athens, 
never  once  occurred  to  him,  and  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to 
take  account  of  the  wider  interests  of  the  whole  Grecian 
world. 

In  spite  of  the  numerous  follies  of  which  lie  was  guilty,  he 
was  favored  by  fortune.  Ho  was  himself  instrumental,  little 
as  he  desired  it,  in  bringing  about  his  own  nomination  as  gen- 


SPHACTERIA.  235 

eral,  with  the  commission  to  capture  Sphacteria,  the  blockade 
of  which  was  attended  with  many  inconveniences.  A  mere 
accident,  the  result  of  carelessness,  had  set  fire  to  the  wood 
which  covered  the  island  and  made  attack  difficult.  This 
accident,  and  the  preparations  which  Demosthenes  thereupon 
made  for  an  immediate  occupation,  were  advantages  by  which 
the  new  general  so  profited  that  the  beleaguered  Spartiatae, 
attacked  with  ranch  skill  by  a  superior  force,  were  at  last 
really  compelled  to  yield  themselves  prisoners  (end  of  summer 
425  B.C.).  The  number  of  the  survivors  amounted  to  about 
300,  the  rest  having  succumbed  to  the  fierce  and  impetuous 
assault.  Cleon  brought  them  in  triumph  to  Athens.  Tlie 
Spartans  then  renewed  their  proposals  for  peace,  which,  how- 
ever, led  to  no  result,  the  demands  of  the  Athenians  becom- 
ing more  and  more  extravagant.  One  evidence,  amongst 
others,  of  the  determination  of  the  Demos  to  prosecute  the  war 
with  might  and  main  is  found  in  the  increase  of  the  tax 
imposed  upon  the  members  of  the  league  in  the  archonship 
of  Stratocles,  in  which  the  conquest  of  Sphacteria  took  place. 
It  was  raised  to  an  amount  sometimes  a  little  more,  some- 
times a  little  less,  tlian  double  the  contribution  hitherto  ex- 
acted. 

The  Athenians  had,  to  begin  with,  an  advantage  which  we 
can  scarcely  overestimate,  in  having  the  prisoners  from  Sphac- 
teria in  their  hands.  How  absolutely  they  were  determined 
to  make  the  utmost  use  of  this  advantage  may  be  inferred 
from  their  resolve  to  slay  their  prisoners  upon  the  first  at- 
tempt of  the  Lakedaemonians  to  invade  Attica  anew.  As  the 
invasions  were  in  fact  discontinued,  the  Athenians  were  ena- 
bled, by  the  tribute  received  from  the  members  of  tlie  league, 
to  throw  themselves  with  increasing  energy  into  the  war,  and 
were  repaid  by  conspicuous  successes,  principally  in  places 
where  tlie  democracy  assisted  them  by  rising  against  a  domi- 
nant aristocracy.  In  this  way  they  became  masters  of  Kor- 
kyra  (425  b.c.)  and  of  Kythera  (424  b.c),  while  elsewhere  too, 
in  places  on  the  sea- coast,  they  obtained  advantages.  Yet 
they  still  failed  in  enterprises  on  a  large  scale,  as  in  those,  for 
example,  against  Corinth  and  Thebes.  At  Tanagra  they  suf- 
fered a  defeat  at  the  hands  of  the  Boeotians  (end  of  424  b.c). 


236  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

At  length,  too,  the  Spartans  roused  themselves  again  to  open 
hostilities ;  and,  without  directly  attacking  Attica,  they  took 
a  course  which  perhaps  was  more  effectual,  by  turning  their 
arms  against  the  possessions  of  Athens  in  the  north. 

Their  design  in  this  was  the  same  atj  that  which  had  already 
given  occasion  to  the  episode  of  Lesbos ;  it  was  to  dissociate 
from  the  Athenians  the  members  of  their  league.  The  at- 
tempt had  failed  by  sea,  and  was  now  made  by  land.  Potidaea, 
indeed,  after  a  siege  of  two  years'  duration,  had  been  com- 
pelled to  yield,  and  had  submitted  once  more  to  the  Atheni- 
ans. These  regions,  however,  were  in  a  perpetual  state  of 
ferment.  By  one  section  of  the  population,  which  had  al- 
ready begun  to  revolt,  the  assistance  of  the  Lakedaemonians 
had  been  invited ;  and  another  section,  without  any  thought 
of  insurrection,  yet  hoped  to  obtain  a  more  independent  posi- 
tion by  drawing  closer  to  Lakedsemon.  Moreover,  it  was 
well  known  that  King  Perdiccas  of  Makedonia  cherished  a 
grudge  against  the  Athenians  for  the  affronts  he  had  received 
from  them  when  he  first  ascended  the  throne,  and  was  anx- 
ious to  obtain  support  from  Lakedsemon  both  against  them 
and  against  other  enemies  on  his  frontier.  To  Lakedsemon, 
molested  by  the  Athenians  both  from  Pylos  and  from  Ky- 
thera,  and  even  imperilled  by  her  insecure  hold  upon  the 
helots,  who  were  inclined  to  join  the  enemy,  it  was  in  itself  a 
matter  of  great  concern  to  excite  hostilities  in  other  quarters 
against  her  restless  and  indefatigable  opponents. 

Accordingly  Brasidas  betook  himself  to  Thrace,  not,  how- 
ever, without  encountering  many  diflSculties  in  his  march 
through  Thessaly.  His  design  was  to  convert  the  allies  of 
Athens  into  allies  of  Sparta.  He  purposed  to  abstain  from 
interference  in  the  internal  disputes  of  the  cities,  and  espe- 
cially to  avoid  favoring  the  aristocracy  at  the  expense  of  the 
democracy.  The  ruling  powers  in  Lakedcemon  had  assured 
him  most  solemnly  that  they  would  leave  unimpaired  the 
freedom  of  the  communities  which  passed  over  to  their  side. 
Accordingly  Brasidas,  presenting  himself  first  at  Acanthus, 
promised  to  achieve  for  the  inhabitants,  and  for  all  the  Hel- 
lenes, freedom  from  the  yoke  of  Athens;  but  at  the  same 
time,  with  an  appeal  to  the  gods  and  heroes  of  the  country, 


BRASIDAS.  237 

he  threatened  to  punish  any  refusal  by  laying  waste  the  dis- 
trict. The  choice,  therefore,  was  between  a  change  of  sides 
and  subjection  by  force.  The  inhabitants,  as  a  body,  were 
not  inclined  to  maintain  their  position  as  a  dependency  of 
Athens  at  the  risk  of  life  and  limb.  In  Acanthus  a  formal 
vote  was  taken  on  the  proposal  of  Brasidas ;  and  the  majority 
was  in  favor  of  accepting  it.  We  may,  perhaps,  assume  that 
this  result  was  partly  due  to  the  doubling  of  tlie  tribute, 
which  was  then  being  for  the  first  time  enforced.  The  hos- 
tility to  the  Athenians  assumed,  in  consequence  of  this  defec- 
tion, greater  dimensions  than  any  which  they  had  encountered 
hitherto. 

Brasidas  was  a  man  of  a  steadfast  and  soldierlike  tempera- 
ment, of  stainless  virtue  and  heroic  courage,  who  possessed 
the  gift  of  confirming  the  attachment  of  his  friends,  while 
combating  the  hostility  of  his  foes.  It  was  a  great  event 
when  this  commander,  supported  by  the  descendants  of  the  an- 
cient inhabitants  in  the  city  and  neighborhood,  made  himself 
master  of  Amphipolis,  the  colony  which  the  Athenians  had 
founded  between  the  arms  of  the  Strymon.  Pursuing  here 
the  same  policy  as  elsewhere,  he  promised  the  inhabitants 
not  only  security,  but  an  independent  government  of  their 
own.  If  any  one  preferred  to  remain  faithful  to  Athens,  he 
was  permitted  to  withdraw,  taking  all  his  property  with  him. 
This  was  the  case  not  only  at  Amphipolis,  but  also  at  Torone, 
which  shortly  afterwards  fell  into  his  hands.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  Thracian  towns  gradually  renounced  the  burdensome 
supremacy  of  Athens  and  became  allies  of  Sparta.  Brasidas 
distributed  arms  among  the  native  inhabitants  of  Chalkidike, 
and  trained  them  in  the  Spartan  discipline.  His  success  was 
such  that  Perdiccas  made  common  cause  with  him  in  an  at- 
tack upon  the  Illyrians,  a  measure  which  must  have  given 
fresh  weight  to  the  ascendenc}^  of  the  Lakedsemonians  of 
these  regions. 

In  this  way  the  Athenians  saw  unexpected  encroachments 
made  upon  them  in  those  districts  on  the  possession  of  which 
their  political  greatness  principally  depended,  and  of  a  great 
part  of  which  they  were  now  despoiled.  Their  losses  in  this 
quarter  reacted  upon  their  maritime  supremacy.     Once  more 


238  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

Lesbos  and  its  concerns  exerted  an  influence  on  the  struggle. 
A  great  number  of  Lesbians  had  fled  into  exile,  and,  collect- 
ing auxiliaries  from  other  places,  established  themselves  at 
Antandros,  whence  they  hoped  to  be  able  to  return  to  My- 
tilene.  On  other  islands  also  there  were  signs  of  disaffec- 
tion. It  may  have  been  through  the  dread  of  a  general  revolt 
that  the  Athenians  removed  the  inhabitants  of  Delos,  with 
their  wives  and  children,  from  that  island,  on  the  plea  that  the 
earlier  lustration  had  not  sufficed  to  remove  the  pollution  of 
which  they  had  been  guilty.  The  exiles  were  replaced  by 
Athenian  citizens  and  compelled  to  seek  refuge  with  the  Per- 
sian satrap  on  the  neighboring  coast.  The  Athenians  had 
not  the  slightest  thought  of  bending  before  the  storm  of 
adversity  which  had  burst  upon  them,  but  they  considered  it 
advisable  to  accept  an  armistice  for  a  year,  on  the  basis  of  uti 
jpossidetis.  A  new  controversy,  however,  arose  at  once  upon 
the  armistice  itself.  Just  at  this  time  the  people  of  Skione,  a 
town  situated  on  the  peninsula  of  Pallene,  had  seceded  to  the 
Lakedsemonians,  and  it  was  disputed  whether  this  had  taken 
place  before  or  after  the  conclusion  of  the  armistice.  The 
Athenians  maintained*  with  perfect  truth  that  it  had  hap- 
pened two  days  after,  and  they  were  accordingly  resolved  to 
maintain  their  right  and  to  recover  the  town,  whilst  tlie 
Lakedsemonians  hesitated  to  relinquish  it  to  their  vengeance. 
Till  the  year  expired  the  armistice  was  observed  with  toler- 
able fidelity.  But  meanwhile  the  general  situation  had  so  far 
changed  that  Perdiccas  had  quarrelled  with  Brasidas,  and 
offered  to  make  an  alliance  with  the  Athenians.  It  was  upon 
this  support  that  Cleon,  whose  success  at  Pylos  obtained  him 
tlie  command  in  those  districts,  principally  relied.  He  set 
out,  accompanied  by  a  considerable  fleet  and  a  fine  army,  for 
the  shores  of  Thrace.  He  succeeded  in  recovering  Skione, 
where  lie  asserted  with  the  utmost  rigor  the  right  which  then 
belonged  to  sovereign  states  over  their  revolted  subjects,  re- 
ducing the  women  and  children  to  slavery,  and  sending  all 
the  adults  capable  of  bearing  arms  as  prisoners  to  Athens. 

♦  Wc  may  adopt  on  this  point  without  hesitation  the  impartial  judg- 
ment of  Thukydides  (iv.  123). 


DEATH  OF  BRASIDAS.  239 

After  this  he  sailed  to  the  Strymon,  where  he  took  up  a  posi- 
tion near  Eion,  a  place  which  the  historian  Thiikydides,  at 
that  time  in  command  of  the  fleet,  had  allowed  to  falL  mto 
the  hands  of  Brasidas  after  the  loss  of  Amphipolis.  Cleon 
intended  to  wait  tliere  for  the  auxiliaries  of  Perdiccas  and 
other  neighboring  chieftains,  in  order  to  begin  the  war  with 
all  the  resources  he  could  muster.  But  he  had  not  the  pa- 
tience to  remain  in  a  position  in  which  he  might  have  defend- 
ed himself  with  success,  his  troops  having  no  confidence  in 
his  generalship,  and  indulging  themselves  in  cutting  observa- 
tions at  his  expense.  A  demagogue  far  more  than  a  com- 
mander, he  forgot,  whilst  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  what 
should  have  been  his  duty  in  a  military  sense.  He  abandoned 
his  excellent  position  with  the  object  of  making  himself  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  the  tone  and  temper  of  the  country. 
While  thus  engaged  he  was  surprised  by  the  military  skill  of 
Brasidas,  and  the  presumptuous  demagogue  succumbed  to 
the  practised  strategist.* 

Brasidas,  who  had  marched  into  the  neighborhood  of  Am- 
phipolis, so  laid  his  plans  that,  whilst  he  made  a  direct  and 
unexpected  attack  upon  the  Athenians  with  a  body  of  picked 
troops,  they  were  at  the  same  time  assailed  from  the  town 
itself.  The  discomfited  Athenians,  whilst  attempting  to  re- 
treat, were  utterly  routed.  Cleon  himself  was  slain.  Brasi- 
das was  wounded,  and  shortly  afterwards  died  (late  summer, 
422  B.C.). 

It  was  a  most  important,  although  not  a  decisive,  event. 
On  the  Spartan  side  the  brave  warrior  had  fallen  who  had 
achieved  so  much  that  he  had  already  excited  the  jealousy  of 
the  Lakedsemonian  aristocracy,  on  the  Athenian  the  powerful 
demagogue  whose  voice  more  than  any  other  commanded  a 
hearing  at  Athens ;  and  it  might  now  be  hoped  that  an  ar- 
rangement could  be  effected,  there  being  solid  reasons  to 
make  both  parties  incline  to  peace. 

To  the  Lakedseraonians  no  object  could  be  more  desirable 

*  In  another  tradition,  preserved  in  Diodorus,  Cleon  is  represented  in  a 
better  light  than  in  Thiikydides,  whom,  nevertheless,  we  prefer  to  follow 
implicitly. 


240  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

^ban  a  relief  from  the  constant  invasions  to  which  their  terri- 
toties  were  exposed  from  Pylos  and  Kythera,  and  whicli  cx- 
cite*(l  the  original  inhabitants  of  the  country  against  their 
masters;  whilst  their  very  existence  would  be  imperilled  if 
Argos,  with  which  they  had  only  concluded  an  armistice,  soon 
to  expire,  renewed  its  old  hostilities.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Athenians  were  aware  that  the  fabric  of  the  league,  upon 
which  their  power  was  based,  was  shaken.  They  had  capt- 
ured Del  ion  by  surprise,  a  place  admirably  situated  for  the 
maintenance  of  their  ascendency  in  Euboea,  but  in  a  subse- 
quent battle  there  they  had  met  with  a  reverse.  The  Boeo- 
tians and  Corinthians  had  once  more  wrested  Delion  from 
them,  a  circumstance  in  itself  very  destructive  to  their  pres- 
tige. The  defeat  at  Amphipolis,  one  of  the  heaviest  the 
Athenians  ever  suffered,  must  have  been  still  more  disastrous 
in  its  effect  upon  the  maritime  league. 

Lakedsemon  had  now  a  price  to  offer,  in  return  for  the 
complete  evacuation  of  the  Peloponnesus,  in  the  restoration 
of  Amphipolis.  The  control  of  Athens  over  her  Thracian 
allies  was  not  indeed  re-established  to  tlie  extent  to  which  it 
had  latterly  been  carried.  Nothing  was  to  be  exacted  be- 
yond the  old  tribute  which  Aristeides  had  formerly  imposed. 
With  this  were  coupled  conditions  securing  the  freedom  of 
the  towns  in  their  internal  affairs,  notwithstanding  their  de- 
pendence upon  Athens.  A  period  was  thus  put  to  the  hos- 
tilities on  the  Strymon,  which  liad  developed  so  rapidly  and 
had  taken  a  turn  so  menacing  to  Athens  (April,  421  b.c). 
The  peace  which  was  effected  upon  these  terms  led  further 
to  the  restoration  of  tlie  prisonei*s  from  Sphacteria,  among 
whom  were  a  hundred  and  twenty  Spartans  of  pure  race. 
Conditions  such  as  Cleon  had  once  demanded  for  their  libera- 
tion were  now  out  of  tlie  question. 

The  peace  was  a  compromise  between  Lakedoemon  and 
Athens.  It  was  called  for  at  Athens  by  those  who  had  al- 
ready, in  opposition  to  Cleon,  consistently  urged  it,  and  es- 
pecially by  Nikias,  the  most  conspicuous  of  the  Athenian 
generals,  who  is  said  to  have  remarked  that  ho  wished  never 
to  run  tlie  least  risk  of  suffering  a  reverse  which  might  injure 
his  mother  country  —  a  pardonable  egotism,  since  it  sprang 


THE  PEACE  OF  NIKIAS.  241 

from  a  want  of  confidence  in  himself.  In  Lakedsemon  the 
peace  was  chiefly  promoted  by  Pleistoanax,  who  in  this  was 
true  to  the  course  he  had  taken  in  his  retreat  from  Attica. 
His  conduct  on  that  occasion  was  no  longer  resented.  The 
peace  came,  as  we  see  from  Aristophanes,  to  meet  a  univer- 
sal need  and  craving.  In  the  true  spirit  of  the  ancient  come- 
dy, Aristophanes,  in  whom  there  ran  a  vein  of  Panhellenism, 
appends  to  the  play  in  which  he  celebrates  the  peace  an  ad- 
monition to  maintain  it.    Exactly  in  this,  however,  lay  the 

difficulty. 

4.  Alkibiades. 

The  relations  between  Athens  and  Sparta  were  altogether 
of  a  very  peculiar  nature.  A  combination  between  these  two 
states,  one  in  nationality  but  contrasted  in  history  and  in  po- 
litical constitution,  was  indispensable,  not  only  on  the  ground 
of  Panhellenic  interests,  for  on  such  a  combination,  as  in  the 
time  of  the  Persian  wars,  the  safety  of  Greece  depended,  but 
also  on  more  selfish  grounds,  for  while  Athens  could  not  en- 
dure a  Lakedaemonian  invasion  of  Attica,  the  presence  of  an 
Athenian  force  in  the  Peloponnesus  wms  equally  intolerable 
to  Lakedsemon.  Peace  was  now  concluded  between  them. 
The  leading  states  were  not,  liowever,  the  wliole  body  of  the 
Hellenes,  and  it  was  at  once  found  that  the  cities  next  to 
them  in  power  declared  against  the  treaty.  Thebes  was  to 
lose  Panacton,  a  place  on  her  frontier  the  possession  of  which 
had  cost  her  a  long  struggle,  while  Corinth  was  to  part  with 
Anactorion,  a  colony  which,  in  conjunction  with  Korkyra, 
she  had  founded  in  Acarnania ;  and  both  resented  as  a 
grievous  injustice  the  treatment  they  were  receiving  at  the 
hands  of  Sparta.  In  the  agitation  which  ensued  the  pe- 
culiar character  of  the  Greek  states  and  cities  was  strikingly 
displayed. 

They  were  all  independent,  and  jealously  concerned  to 
maintain  their  separate  individuality.  Each  state  had  dis- 
played all  the  acuteness  characteristic  of  the  Greeks  in  in- 
clining the  balance  of  its  policy,  both  internal  and  external, 
to  one  or  the  other  side.  Their  emissaries  were  incessantly 
passing  to  and  fro  to  maintain  unimpaired  the  interests  of 
one  state  with  another.     The  phenomenon  of  a  number  of 

16 


242  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

communities,  small  indeed,  but  highly  organized,  with  no  su- 
perior power  to  control  them  even  from  a  distance,  forming 
a  system  kept  together  only  by  the  sympathies  and  antip- 
athies which  were  at  work  within  its  limits,  is  one  which 
has  never  been  repeated.  In  the  ancient  world,  at  a  later 
date,  the  Makedonians  and  the  Romans  interfered  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  Greeks,  and  in  the  Italian  republics  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  the  Papacy  and  the  Empire  were  never  entirely  left 
out  of  sight,  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  the  vicissitudes  of 
these  states,  in  themselves  of  little  moment,  excite  the  atten- 
tion which  is  still  bestowed  upon  them. 

At  the  crisis  which  we  have  reached,  the  Corinthians  took 
the  initiative.  The  terms  of  the  pacification  being  disadvan- 
tageous to  their  state,  they  represented  to  the  other  powers 
that  the  sole  object  of  Athens  and  Sparta  was  to  keep  the 
rest  of  Greece  under  their  joint  control.  They  turned  to 
Argos,  a  state  which  had  become  much  more  powerful  of 
late  years,  and  which,  having  adopted  a  democratic  constitu- 
tion, was  less  likely  than  before  to  prolong  her  armistice  with 
Sparta.  If  the  old  struggle  should  be  renewed,  Argos  had 
willing  allies  in  her  near  neighbor  Mantineia,  a  town  which 
had  lately  risen  to  great  power,  and  in  the  Eleans,  who  had, 
like  Argos,  conformed  to  the  democratic  model,  and  had  be- 
come involved  with  the  adjacent  state  of  Sparta  in  quarrels 
in  which  it  is  impossible  to  say  which  of  the  disputants  had 
right  upon  their  side.  The  budding  league  had  this  further 
and  noteworthy  result,  that  the  Thebans  declined  to  deliver 
up  Panacton,  without  levelling  its  fortifications,  to  the  Athe- 
nians. They  appealed  to  an  arrangement  which  had  been 
made  upon  a  former  occasion,  according  to  which  Panacton 
was  to  be  open  ground,  accessible  to  both  parties.  The 
Lakedoemonians  in  effect  acceded  to  their  representations. 
But  the  Athenians  were  astonished  and  exasperated.  They 
thouirht  themselves  defrauded  inasmuch  as  the  frontier  for- 
tress  was  not  delivered  up  to  them  intact,  according  to  the 
terms  of  the  peace.  The  Lakedeemonians,  instead  of  com- 
pelling the  Boeotians  to  deliver  up  the  fortress,  as  the  peace 
required,  rather  took  their  side.  Thus,  from  the  action  of 
the  Bmallcr  states  impeding  the  complete  execution  of  the 


ALKIBIADES  AND  ARGOS.  243 

terms  of  peace,  there  arose  a  fresh  misunderstanding  between 
the  two  leading  states  which  had  concluded  it. 

Once  more  Nikias  was  sent  to  the  Spartans  to  require  them 
to  break  off  their  alliance  with  Thebes ;  but  his  efforts  were 
unsuccessful.  A  further  consequence  of  this,  however,  was 
that  the  opponents  of  Nikias  and  his  party  gained  ground  in 
the  Demos ;  and  the  young  Alkibiades  now  appeared  at  their 
liead.  He  belonged  to  one  of  the  principal  families  of  the 
Eupatrida3,  and  his  mother  was  an  Alcmseonid.*  He  was 
educated  in  the  house  of  Pericles,  whose  policy  he  continued 
so  far  as  it  was  directed  towards  the  improvement  of  the 
naval  power  of  Athens  and  the  extension  of  her  dominion 
without  regard  to  Sparta.  Alkibiades  is  said  to  have  been 
displeased  with  the  Spartans  for  having  employed  tlie  inter- 
vention of  Nikias  in  making  advances  to  Athens,  whilst  the 
old  terms  of  hospitality  on  which  his  ancestors  on  the  father's 
side  had  stood  with  Sparta,  and  which  he  himself  had  re- 
newed, gave  him,  as  he  thought,  a  well-grounded  claim  to  be 
intrusted  with  the  charge  of  their  interests.  It  is  very  pos- 
sible that  a  young  man,  conscious  of  his  own  powers,  proud  of 
his  descent,  and  eager  to  achieve  personal  distinction,  may 
have  resented  this  neglect.  But  Athens  generally  shared  his 
estrangement  from  Sparta.  To  unite  in  a  common  policy 
the  oligarchical  government  of  Sparta  and  the  democracy  of 
Athens  was  an  undertaking  scarcely  to  be  compassed.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  could  have  been  no  intention  of  renew- 
ing the  war.  Even  Alkibiades  had  no  such  purpose,  but  he 
thought  it  well  to  counteract  the  combination  between  Sparta 
and  Thebes,  which  might  prove  extremely  dangerous  should 
Argos  join  it,  by  uniting  Athens  with  Argos  once  more. 

These  little  states  form  a  world  in  which  action  is  in  every 
case  followed  by  reaction.  If  Corinth  had  sought  a  union 
with  Argos,  in  order  to  resist  the  policy  of  the  two  greater 
powers,  w^e  see  Athens  now,  in  opposition  to  Sparta,  entering 


*  Alkibiades,  his  grandfather,  an  ally  of  Cleisthenes,  had  a  son  Cleinias, 
who  married  Deinomache,  the  granddaughter  of  Cleisthenes.  Cleisthenes 
was,  therefore,  great-grandfather  of  the  younger  Alkibiades.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  he  was  also  great-uncle  of  Pericles. 


24:4:  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

into  an  alliance  witli  Argos  which  forced  Corinth  to  renew 
her  old  relations  with  Sparta.  The  democratic  constitution 
of  Argos  was  a  further  motive  for  advances  on  the  part  of 
Athens.  In  Argos  as  well  as  Sparta  Alkibiades  had  personal 
friends,  and  after  a  short  time  a  defensive  league  was  made 
between  Argos,  Mantineia,  and  the  Eleans  on  the  one  side 
and  Athens  on  the  other,  by  which  it  was  covenanted  that 
whoever  attacked  any  one  of  the  parties  should  be  regarded 
as  the  enemy  of  all. 

The  state  of  universal  tension  which  this  league  produced 
may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  the  Spartans  were  prevented 
by  the  Eleans,  supported  as  they  were  by  Mantineia,  Argos, 
and  now  by  Athens  as  well,  from  taking  part  in  the  Olympic 
games  (420  b.c),  the  very  purpose  of  which  was  to  represent 
and  to  maintain  peaceful  relations  between  the  different  tribes 
of  Greece,  however  warlike  their  attitude  at  other  times. 
Contrary  to  all  expectation,  the  Spartans  bore  this  insult  pa- 
tiently. Nor  were  they  roused  to  action  until  the  Argives, 
at  the  instigation  of  Alkibiades,  made  an  attempt  to  subjugate 
Epidaurus.  With  the  view  of  relieving  the  apprehensions 
of  the  Argives,  a  troop  of  helots  was  sent  from  Athens  to 
disturb  the  Lakedaemonian  territory  (winter  of  419-8  b.c). 
Even  then  the  Spartans  carefully  abstained  from  any  hostility 
against  Athens,  and  made  it  their  principal  aim  either  to 
overpower  Argos  or  gain  her  to  their  side.  "With  this  in- 
tention King  Agis  took  the  field.  He  did  in  fact  succeed, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  party  in  Argos  with  whom  he  kept 
up  an  understanding,  in  concluding  an  armistice  for  four 
months  (summer  of  418  b.c),  which  appeared  certain  to  lead 
to  a  permanent  peace. 

At  this  crisis,  however,  Alkibiades  once  more  arrived  at 
Argos.  By  his  influence  the  arrangement  was  pronounced 
invalid,  and  Argos  and  her  allies,  including  the  Athenians, 
attacked  the  Lakedsemonians,  in  accordance  with  the  terms 
of  the  treaty.  They  captured  Orchomenus,  and  liberated  the 
hostages  of  the  conquered  towns,  who  had  been  transported 
thither  by  the  Lakedtemonians;  then  they  pushed  on  against 
Tegeia,  which  had  hitherto  been  the  most  faithful  of  the  allies 
pf  Sparta.    In  this  peril,  menaced  by  an  overwhelming  force  ' 


DESTRUCTION  OF  MELOS.  945 

in  the  heart  of  the  Peloponnesus,  the  Lakedaemonians  bestirred 
themselves  with  all  their  old  energy.  As  chance  willed  it, 
in  the  course  of  a  desultory  march,  when  they  had  no  ex- 
pectation of  a  battle,  they  encountered  their  enemies,  who 
had  taken  up  a  good  position  at  Mantineia  (August,  418  b.c). 
But  their  old  discipline,  which  Spartan  training  and  Spartan 
modes  of  life  had  maintained  in  all  its  vigor,  asserted  itself 
with  conspicuous  success,  and  their  king  Agis  was  enabled 
once  more  to  clear  himself  from  the  censure  under  which  he 
lay  on  account  of  his  retreat  some  years  before.  The  battle 
resulted  in  favor  of  the  Lakedaemonians,  and,  though  not  im- 
mediately, had  shortly  afterwards  the  effect  of  bringing  the 
party  which  favored  their  cause  once  more  into  the  ascendant 
at  Argos.  Thereupon  the  Argives,  together  with  the  Eleans 
and  Mantineians,  concluded  a  league  with  the  Spartans,  the 
principal  aim  of  which  was  to  exclude  the  Athenians  forever 
from  the  Peloponnesus  (winter  of  418-7  b.c).  It  was  round 
this  question  that  the  mutual  opposition  of  Athens  and  Sparta 
mainly  centred.  The  Lakedaemonians  would  not  endure  the 
presence  of  any  Athenians  in  the  Peloponnesus,  while  the 
Athenians  refused  to  give  up  the  ties  which  they  had  formed 
within  that  region.  Once  more  Alkibiades  betook  himself  to 
Argos,  and  never  were  his  talents  as  an  agitator  more  brill- 
iantly demonstrated.  He  brought  about  the  overthrow  of 
the  oligarchy  which  had  been  established  by  Spartan  influ- 
ence, and  all  the  principal  supporters  of  this  party  were  ban- 
ished and  placed  under  Athenian  supervision.  The  Argives 
displayed  the  utmost  zeal  in  attaching  themselves  to  Athens, 
and  at  the  instance  of  Alkibiades  they  built  long  walls,  as 
Patrae  had  done  a  short  time  before,  in  order  that  their  mari- 
time connection  with  Athens  might  not  be  interrupted. 

In  spite  of  the  conflict  of  interests  which  the  political  situa- 
tion so  strikingly  reveals,  no  open  breach  between  Sparta  and 
Athens  immediately  ensued.  Indeed,  the  Lakedaemonians  ac- 
quiesced when  the  little  island  of  Melos,  one  of  their  own 
colonies,  was  overpowered  and  punished  with  the  most  cruel 
severity  by  the  Athenians,  whose  league  it  had  refused  to 
join  (winter  of  415-4  b.c).  The  revenge  which  Cleon  had 
proposed  to  take  upon  Mytilene  was  here  mercilessly  put  into 


246  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

execution ;  the  men  were  put  to  death,  the  women  and  chil- 
dren carried  away  as  slaves.  It  is  related  of  Alkibiades  that 
although  he  had  been  chiefly  instrumental  in  carrying  this 
decree,  he,  nevertheless,  reserved  to  himself  a  female  captive 
who  had  attracted  his  admiration,  and  by  whom  a  son  was 
born  to  him,  whom  he  brought  up  in  his  own  house.  It  is 
illustrative  of  the  state  of  opinion  at  this  time  that  his  con- 
duct, instead  of  being  regarded  as  a  matter  of  reproach,  was 
on  the  contrary  commended  as  a  trait  of  humanity. 

Alkibiades   now   figured   as   the   principal   personage   at 
Athens,  taking  the  same  rank  as  Kimon  before  him,  although 
belonging  to  the  opposite  party.     There  was  an  element  of 
truth  in  his  assertion  that  in  the  splendid  display  which  he 
made  with  his  four-horse  chariots  at  Olympia,  where  he  won 
with  them  the  first,  second,  and  third  prizes,  he  had  only  the 
glory  of  his  native  city  in  view,  for  it  was,  indeed,  one  way  of 
showing  Greece  that  Athens  still  possessed  rich  and  powerful 
citizens.     He  was  liberal  in  his  expenditure  for  the  public 
service  and  for  the  amusement  of  the  people.    But  there  was 
something  in  his  whole  character  and  conduct  which  trai*^ 
scended  the  republican  standard  and  the  traditions  of  citizen 
life.    There  was  about  him  something  of  the  prince,  although 
he  achieved  influence  through  the  democracy  alone  and  by 
courting  popularity.     His  brilliant  exterior  dazzled  but  did 
not  offend.     In  his  personal  beauty,  in  his  way  of  speaking, 
and  even  in  his  defective  pronunciation,  there  was  something 
which  seemed  to  plead  in  his  favor.    In  his  youth  he  was  told 
that  he  might  attain  to  greater  authority  even  than  Pericles  in 
public  affairs.    On  the  other  hand,  Socrates  called  his  atten- 
tion to  his  imperfections.     Alkibiades  once  remarked  that 
when  he  heard  Pericles  speak  he  was  left  with  the  impression 
that  Pericles  had  spoken  well.     "  But,"  he  continued, "  when 
I  listen  to  the  words  of  this  Marsyas" — it  was  thus  he  desig- 
nated Socrates — "  my  heart  leaps  within  me,  and  I  shed  tears, 
and  he  brings  me  to  such  a  pass  that  I  feel  I  can  hardly  en- 
dure the  life  I  am  leading."     The  mutual  attraction  between 
older  men  and  those  in  early  manhood,  which  is  justly  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  most  objectionable  features  in  Greek 
life,  was  exalted  in  the  relations  between  Socrates  and  Alki* 


CHARACTER  OF  ALKIBIADES.  247 

biades  above  the  vulgar  level,  and  acquired  an  educational, 
and  we  might  almost  say  a  political  and  military,  value.  It 
was  only  by  virtue  of  his  mental  superiority  and  moral  influ- 
ence that  Socrates  brought  Alkibiades  to  return  his  affection, 
mutual  proofs  of  which  were  given  in  the  presence  of  the 
enemy,  when  Socrates  saved  Alkibiades  after  he  had  fallen 
exhausted  at  Potidsea,  and  was  saved  by  him  in  turn  in  the 
retreat  from  Delion. 

The  natural  propensities  of  Alkibiades,  in  spite  of  this 
friendship,  held  their  course  unchecked.  His  ambitious  love 
of  display,  while  it  fascinated  the  multitude,  which,  says  Aris- 
tophanes, loved  him  and  hated  him,  but  still  could  not  live 
without  him,  excited  the  apprehensions  of  quiet  and  serious- 
minded  men,  who  foreboded  nothing  but  mischief  from  his 
proceedings.  "  Go  on,"  said  the  misanthrope  Timon,  seeing 
him  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  popularity:  "you  will  bring  all 
these  folks  to  ruin."  In  spite  of  his  Socratic  discipline  Alki- 
biades remained  untamed  and  untrustworthy.  That  he  enter- 
tained great  designs  from  the  first  —  that,  for  example,  of 
making  himself  despotic  or  bringing  Italy  and  Africa  under 
the  yoke  of  Athens — is  more  than  we  can  say  of  him  without 
some  reservation.  But  he  certainly  aimed  at  making  himself 
and  his  country  great.  He  fixed  his  entire  attention  on  the 
political  conditions  of  the  moment,  and  developed  their  ten- 
dencies with  this  end  in  view.  It  is  easy  to  understand  why 
he  took  the  opposite  side  to  Nikias.  The  insecurity  of  the 
situation  in  which  Athens  was  placed,  so  long  as  the  terms  of 
peace  were  not  carried  out  in  their  integrity,  enabled  him  to 
set  himself  at  the  head  of  the  people,  and,  young  as  he  still 
was,  to  take  the  guidance  of  affairs  into  his  own  hands.  The 
democracy  needed  a  leader.  Such  a  leader  they  found  in 
Alkibiades,  but  he  was  the  most  dangerous  they  could  have 
chosen.  He  could  already  point  to  great  successes,  especially 
to  the  alliance  with  Argos,  which  he  had  persuaded  to  oppose 
the  Lakedsemonians  in  the  Peloponnesus.  This  alliance, 
moreover,  associated  together  democratic  constitutions,  and 
thus  gave  him  a  double  authority  in  his  character  as  a  leader 
of  the  people.  The  combination  of  these  tendencies  did  not, 
however,  imply  a  breach  with  Sparta,  for  the  notion  of  mak- 


248  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

ing  Sparta  herself  democratic  could  never  have  been  enter- 
tained. But  the  course  upon  which  Athens  had  now  entered 
tended  to  restrict  the  influence  of  Sparta  within  the  small- 
est possible  compass,  and  to  leave  the  field  open  to  the  Athe- 
nians. 

These  considerations  prepare  us  for  the  appearance  upon 
the  political  horizon  of  an  enterprise  on  the  part  of  Athens 
for  the  subjection  of  Sicily.  This  enterprise  may  be  re- 
garded from  one  point  of  view  as  an  episode  in  universal 
history,  inasmuch  as  it  affected,  in  the  widest  sense,  the  rela- 
tions between  various  states  and  the  modes  of  thought  by 
which  those  relations  were  determined.  It  is  an  old  observa- 
tion that  the  relations  between  the  Greek  settlements  in 
Sicily  and  the  Phoenician  settlements  founded  by  Carthage 
were  in  a  manner  connected  with  the  general  opposition  be- 
tween East  and  West.  The  story  is  well  known  that  the  vic- 
tory at  Salamis  coincided  with  a  corresponding  success  won 
by  the  Sicilian  Greeks  over  the  Carthaginians  at  Ilimera. 
This,  indeed,  is  only  a  legend,  traceable  to  the  feeling  that 
some  such  connection  did  in  fact  exist,  but  similar  incidents 
really  occurred.  The  Greeks  in  Sicily  had  been  favored  with 
time  to  develop  themselves  peacefully,  until  they  became 
able  to  hold  their  own  against  the  Carthaginians  in  the  island 
and  to  restrict  them  to  a  few  places  upon  the  coast.  Yet 
there  is  no  trace  of  any  design  on  the  part  of  Alkibiades  and 
Athens  to  set  themselves  at  the  head  of  the  Sicilian  Greeks 
against  the  Carthaginians,  although  Alkibiades  included  Libya 
in  his  calculations.  Their  views,  so  far  as  they  took  shape  in 
action,  were  confined  to  the  internal  disputes  which  agitated 
the  Greek  world.  It  was  the  Dorian  settlements,  whose  in- 
habitants were  closely  connected  with  the  Lakedcemonians, 
which  were  in  the  ascendant  in  Sicily.  These  were  constant- 
ly at  feud  with  the  Ionian  settlements,  with  which  the  Athe- 
nians were  connected  by  a  similar  tie.  To  assist  the  latter 
was  no  departure  from  the  direct  course  of  Athenian  policy. 

It  was  a  design  which  Pericles  had  already  entertained. 
Several  years  before  this  time,  when  the  Leontines,  who  were 
of  Ionian  descent,  were  hard  pressed  by  Syracuse,  the  princi- 
pal Dorian  colony,  vai'ious  attempts  were  made  to  give  them 


THE  SICILIAN  EXPEDITION.  249 

assistance,  the  only  effect  of  which,  however,  was  to  strengthen 
the  power  of  Syracuse.  Egesta  also,  involved  in  a  quarrel  on 
the  subject  of  territorial  rights  with  the  neighboring  city  of 
Selinus,  was  put  in  jeopardy  by  Syracuse,  which  came  to  the 
assistance  of  the  latter.  There  was  no  tribal  relationship  to 
give  Athens  a  plea  for  making  the  cause  of  Egesta  her  own, 
for  the  latter  city  belonged  to  a  colony  reputed  to  be  of 
Trojan  origin,  and  was  even  on  good  terms  with  the  Cartha- 
ginians. But  Egesta  insisted  with  success  upon  another  mo- 
tive—  namely,  the  constantly  increasing  power  of  Syracuse, 
which,  by  the  subjection  both  of  the  Leontines  and  the  people 
of  Egesta,  would  become  absolutely  supreme  in  Sicily,  to  the 
detriment  of  the  naval  power  of  Athens  and  of  her  kinsmen 
of  the  Ionian  stock.  We  recognize  here  the  special  character 
of  the  hostilities  between  Greek  and  Greek,  as  depending 
upon  the  antagonism  of  the  races,  but  this  opposition  had 
never  had  consequences  so  extensive  as  those  which  were 
now  in  prospect. 

In  Athens  the  advocates  of  peace,  and  especially  Nikias, 
were  absolutely  opposed  to  the  notion  of  assisting  Egesta. 
The  people  of  that  city  had  indeed  represented  that  Syracuse 
would  always  side  with  Sparta,  but  it  seemed  dangerous  by 
an  attack  upon  Syracuse  to  provoke  open  hostilities  with  the 
latter.  To  judge  from  the  experience  of  the  last  few  years,  a 
war  with  Sparta  offered  little  prospect  of  success,  while  it  in- 
volved the  greatest  hazards,  especially  since  all  the  other  en- 
emies of  Athens  would  be  roused  to  action  at  the  same  time. 
AJkibiades,  as  might  be  expected,  combated  these  views.  He 
was  much  assisted  in  his  efforts  by  the  alliance  with  Argos, 
which  he  had  himself  effected.  Athens  did  not,  as  hitherto, 
stand  single-handed,  but  had  formed  connections,  through 
which  the  exclusive  power  of  Sparta  in  the  Peloponnesus  was 
very  greatly  impaired.  Alkibiades  exerted  all  the  power  im- 
parted both  by  his  personal  influence  and  his  prestige.  The 
noble  speech  which  Thukydides  puts  in  his  mouth  cannot  be 
regarded  as  an  exact  report  of  what  he  said,  but  the  principles 
therein  expressed  are  of  the  greatest  importance  as  illustrat- 
ing the  political  views  of  the  period.  At  the  time  of  the 
subjugation  of  Melos,  a  proceeding  not  to  be  justified  on  any 


250  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

other  ground,  the  Athenians  had  maintained  the  maxim  that 
the  inferior  power  must  alwa3's  give  way  to  the  greater;  it 
was,  they  affirmed,  proved  by  experience  that  this  was  the  will 
of  the  gods,  to  whom  Melos  vainly  appealed.  Their  mean- 
ing was  that  territorial  independence  must  inevitably,  in  the 
course  of  events,  through  which  the  divine  will  is  displayed, 
yield  to  the  sovereignty  of  a  real  power,  embracing  all  its 
neighbors  within  the  sphere  of  its  influence.  The  feeling 
that  might  implies  right  was  extended  by  Alkibiades  to  the 
conclusion  that  a  constantly  progressive  power,  such  as  that  of 
Athens,  need  not,  when  its  assistance  is  invoked,  be  scrupu- 
lously careful  to  consider  whether  justice  is  on  the  side  of  the 
suppliants,  or  even  whether  it  may  expect,  in  case  of  emer- 
gency, to  receive  support  from  them  in  turn,  but  cannot  avoid 
giving  assistance.  Everything  in  Athens  depended,  he  said, 
upon  the  development  of  her  naval  power ;  no  limit  could  be 
fixed  at  which  this  was  to  be  arrested,  for  power  excited  a 
natural  jealousy ;  it  was  always  lawful  to  anticipate  rather  than 
to  await  attack,  and  necessary  to  take  one  side  or  the  other. 

The  leading  idea  in  this  argument  is  simply  that  power, 
once  established,  must  go  on  growing,  because  it  cannot  ex- 
actly estimate  the  hostile  forces  by  which  it  may  be  opposed. 
This  was  the  principle,  as  is  well  known,  upon  which  Napo- 
leon I.  justified  his  wars;  it  was  the  cause  of  his  ruin.  It 
was  the  principle  also  of  the  Romans,  who  succeeded  in  car- 
rying it  out,  and  based  their  world-wide  empire  upon  it.  We 
see  it  here  for  the  first  time  at  Athens,  dawning  upon  the 
mind  of  a  leading  statesman ;  it  was  the  issue  towards  which 
the  march  of  Athens,  in  the  development  of  her  power,  was 
tending.  Democracy,  in  order  to  establish  itself,  had  to  de- 
prive the  old  aristocracy  of  some  of  the  prerogatives  which  it 
had  formerly  possessed.  By  the  same  process  the  individual 
independence  of  the  members  of  the  Delian  league  had  been 
gradually  broken  down.  Sparta  was  the  only  support  to 
which  malcontents  of  either  class  could  turn.  Alkibiades 
aimed  chiefly  at  securing  the  dominion  over  all  Hellas,  to 
which  Athens  had  already,  in  his  view,  a  claim,  by  a  victory 
over  Syracuse:  ho  thought  little  of  the  hostility  of  Sparta, 
which  ho  accepted  as  an  inevitable  consequence. 


THE  SICILIAN   EXPEDITION.  251 

It  is  obvious  that  these  views  must  have  encountered  op- 
position, for,  though  it  might  be  true  that  they  had  been  put 
in  practice  already,  no  one  had  as  yet  openly  professed  them. 
The  older  men  were  more  inclined  towards  Nikias,  whilst  the 
younger,  eager  for  action,  ranged  themselves  upon  the  side  of 
Alkibiades.  Alkibiades,  however,  insisted  that  both  classes 
were  essential  to  the  composition  of  the  state,  and  that  its 
power  depended  upon  their  united  action.  His  counsels  pre- 
vailed, and  the  preparations  were  undertaken  on  a  magnifi- 
cent scale.  It  was  well  known  that  the  enemy  to  be  assailed 
was  expert  in  naval  warfare.  To  conquer  him  a  fleet  of  a 
hundred  triremes  was  prepared.  The  universal  emulation 
extended  to  the  material  equipment.  But  especial  pains  were 
taken  with  the  requisite  exercises,  especially  in  trials  of  speed 
in  rowing.  Sixty  of  the  vessels  were  Durely  ships  of  war; 
forty  were  at  the  same  time  intended  to  serve  as  transports. 
Thirty-four  ships  were  added  by  the  members  of  the  league, 
so  that  complete  control  of  the  sea  was  assured  beyond  a 
doubt.  The  Athenians  were,  however,  determined  to  be  pre- 
pared at  all  points  for  their  enterprise,  remembering  that 
they  would  have  to  fight  on  shore  as  well  as  at  sea.  The 
number  of  hoplites  embarked  exceeded  6000,  of  whom  1500 
were  Athenian  citizens  and  furnished  their  own  equipment; 
YOO  more  were  Athenian  citizens  armed  at  the  public  ex- 
pense ;  the  rest  were  allies,  among  whom  the  contingents  of 
Argos  and  Mantineia  occupied  a  prominent  place.  All  were 
hopeful  of  bringing  the  impending  war  to  a  successful  issue, 
and  of  gaining  from  it  glory  and  personal  advantage.  They 
had  not  neglected  to  provide  against  the  attacks  of  cavalry,  to 
which  they  would  be  exposed  on  their  landing  in  Sicily. 
They  lost  no  time  in  strengthening  their  forces  with  archers 
and  slingers,  principally  from  Crete.  Above  all,  they  reck- 
oned on  the  support  of  the  Ionian  settlements  in  Sicily,  and 
on  plentiful  contributions  from  Egesta. 

It  was  an  enterprise  to  which  the  past  history  of  Greece 
afforded  no  parallel.  It  called  forth  all  the  energies  of 
the  commonwealth  of  Athens  and  of  her  allies;  and  the 
Athenian  people,  always  confident,  ambitious,  and  apt  to  be 
tempted  by  wide  projects,  set  the  greatest  hopes  upon  it. 


252  THE  ATHENIAN   DEMOCRACY. 

Nor  can  it  bo  maintained  that  these  hopes  were  unfounded, 
in  view  of  the  general  situation  at  the  time.  The  Carthagin- 
ians had  already  once  been  checked,  and  were  now  engrossed 
in  other  enterprises ;  amongst  the  Greeks  no  force  could  be 
raised  by  sea  and  land  which  could  at  all  approach  the  Athe- 
nian expedition  in  magnitude,  whilst  the  Persians  had  their 
hands  tied  by  the  Peace  of  Kimon.  Thukydides  makes  Al- 
kibiades  expressly  say  that  he  had  set  his  eye  upon  Italy  and 
Libya,  but  always  with  the  design  of  falling  upon  Pelopon- 
nesus with  the  power  thence  derived,  as  well  as  with  barbarian, 
especially  Iberian,  auxiliaries,  and  with  fresh  triremes  built  of 
materials  which  Italy  was  to  furnish.  In  this  way,  he  ex- 
plained, he  had  hoped  to  make  himself  master  of  tlie  whole 
Hellenic  world.  This  would  have  been,  indeed,  to  take  up  a 
magnificent  position  in  the  midst  of  the  opposing  forces  of 
the  universe. 

Yet  we  may  question  at  the  very  outset  whether  Athens 
was  really  capable,  not  only  of  commencing,  but  carrying  to 
a  successful  issue,  a  struggle  of  this  description.  Even  if  such 
hopes  were  not  unjustifiable  in  view  of  the  opposing  forces 
which  the  enterprise  w^as  destined  to  call  into  action,  there  is 
another  reason  which  claims  consideration.  For  the  exten- 
sion of  a  power  which  has  but  itself  to  depend  upon,  whilst 
making  the  whole  world  its  antagonist,  unity  in  the  end  and 
aims  proposed  is  essential,  whether  it  be  the  power  of  a  prince 
who  executes  plans  which  he  has  liimself  framed,  or  of  a  com- 
monwealth where  a  policy  is  firmly  seized  and  as  firmly  main- 
tained. But  at  the  very  outset  it  was  manifest  that  Athens 
was  not  such  a  commonwealth.  Alkibiades,  who  had  been 
chiefly  instrumental  in  bringing  the  enterprise  about,  was 
nevertheless  very  far  from  holding  a  really  commanding  po- 
sition, or  even  from  being  sure  of  the  more  limited  authority 
which  he  actually  possessed.  One  night,  in  the  midst  of  the 
preparations  for  the  departure  of  the  fleet,  the  marble  busts  of 
Hermes  which  stood  in  front  of  the  citizens'  houses  were 
mutilated.  This  outrage  threw  the  city  into  a  ferment  such 
as  had  never  before  been  experienced.  The  act  was  construed 
into  an  attack  upon  religion  and  upon  tlio  constitution.  It 
was  against  Alkibiades  that  the  popular  ilMmmor  was  di- 


MUTILATION  OF  THE  HERM^.  253 

rected.  Like  Pericles,  he  was  generally  out  of  sympathy  with 
the  prevalent  religion,  and  inclined  rather  to  philosophic  opin- 
ions ;  he  had,  indeed,  gone  so  far  as  to  parody  at  a  nocturnal 
debauch  religious  rites  which  were  regarded  by  the  multitude 
with  reverential  awe.  It  is  certain  that  he  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  disorderly  act  in  question,  but  by  the  accusations 
which  were  brought  against  him  in  the  inquiry  to  which  it 
gave  occasion  he  felt  his  position  shaken  and  imperilled.  His 
personal  conduct  was  so  defiant  of  established  rules  and  do- 
mestic morality  that  he  was  believed  capable  of  anything. 

Alkibiades  was  convinced  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  to  sail  unless  the  matter  were  legally  decided  and  his  own 
acquittal  pronounced.  It  would  be  better,  he  said,  that  he 
should  be  put  to  death  at  once  than  that  he  should  proceed 
upon  an  undertaking  of  such  magnitude,  and  fraught  with 
such  critical  issues  to  the  state,  while  burdened  with  a  sus- 
picion of  this  kind.  It  is  true  that  the  superstitious  multi- 
tude was  excited  against  him,  but  it  is  equally  undeniable 
that  his  political  antagonists  seized  this  as  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  shake  his  authority.  A  little  reflection,  however, 
suflSced  to  convince  them  that  on  the  very  eve  of  an  enter- 
prise upon  which  all  eyes  were  directed,  and  in  the  presence 
of  so  many  armed  citizens  enlisted  for  the  campaign,  they 
could  effect  nothing  against  the  general,  who,  although  asso- 
ciated with  two  other  commanders,  Nikias  and  Lamachus, 
had  the  principal  conduct  of  the  undertaking.  They  even 
wished  the  expedition  to  Sicily  to  start  at  once,  as  they  would 
then  be  in  a  position  to  proceed  to  further  machinations  un- 
disturbed. Without  entering  into  the  case  itself  the  people 
came  to  a  formal  resolution  that  the  fleet  should  set  sail  with- 
out delay.*     Alkibiades  was  thus  relieved  from  the  immedi- 

*  I  depart  here  from  the  usual  view  that  the  trial  was  postponed  till 
the  return  of  Alkibiades  in  consequence  of  a  formal  determination ;  for, 
in  the  first  place,  this  would  have  been  the  exact  opposite  of  the  course 
which  Alkibiades  had  desired,  and  it  would,  in  the  case  of  one  so  pow- 
erful, have  brought  about  a  reaction  in  his  favor.  But,  besides  this,  how 
could  the  party  of  his  opponents  have  had  the  effrontery,  in  the  ftice  of 
such  a  decision,  to  proceed  against  him  ?  In  Thukydides  no  such  state- 
ment is  made ;  the  proposals  of  certain  orators  are  by  no  means  repre- 


254  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

ate  danger  of  legal  proceedings,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  liis 
opponents  did  not  renounce  their  intention  of  bringing  fresh 
charges  against  him  in  his  absence.  Under  such  circum- 
stances it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  an  undertaking 
should  succeed  in  which  everything  depended  upon  the  un- 
broken spirit  of  its  commander-in-chief. 

There  is  one  further  question  which  we  cannot  leave  unin- 
vestigated— the  question  to  what  precise  point  the  aims  of 
Athens  were  directed ;  for  it  is  impossible  that  she  could  have 
rested  content  with  the  general  but  very  vague  idea  of  a  con- 
quest of  Sicily.  Diodorus  Siculus,  who  for  this  chapter  of 
history  supplies  us  with  several  valuable  details  in  amplifica- 
tion of  the  narrative  of  Thukydides,  states  that  in  a  confer- 
ence between  the  generals  elect  and  the  leading  members 
of  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  which  took  place  on  the  day 
before  the  departure  of  the  fleet,  it  was  resolved  to  prosecute 
the  war  against  Syracuse  and  Selinus  to  the  utter  destruction 
of  those  communities.  Since  it  was  against  them  that  the  as- 
sistance of  Athens  had  been  invoked  by  the  people  of  Egesta 
and  Leontini,  it  was  purposed  to  render  that  assistance  with- 
out let  or  stint.  The  other  Sicilian  republics  were  to  be  left 
unhurt,  but  to  be  forced  to  enter  into  an  alliance.  The  league 
between  Athens  and  a  number  of  subject  allies,  which  had 
been  maintained  in  the  East  against  the  Persians,  was  now  to 
be  extended  to  the  West  as  a  check  upon  the  Carthaginians, 
an  arrangement  which  would  have  given  Athens  a  command- 
ing position  over  the  greater  part  of  the  Mediterranean  as 
well  as  of  Greece  itself.  The  mass  of  the  people  can  scarcely 
have  had  much  knowledge  of  these  intentions ;  their  minds 


sented  as  acquiesced  in  by  the  people  (vi.  29).  His  words  are,  HoU 
irXetv  TOP  'AXKifiidSriv.  Plutarch,  whose  account  is  really  only  an  expan- 
sion of  that  of  Thukydides,  perhaps  suggests  something  of  the  kind,  but 
nowhere  actually  says  as  much  (Alcibiades,  c.  19).  Andokides  has,  in- 
deed, so  stated  the  matter,  but  it  has  been  sufficiently  demonstrated  that 
his  statements  arc  not  entirely  to  be  depended  on.  To  me  the  only  cer- 
tain fact  seems  to  be  that  in  the  vote  of  the  people  which  was  to  pro- 
nounce upon  the  accusation  they  proceeded  to  the  order  of  the  day. 
This,  however,  was  only  the  question  of  the  departure  of  the  fleet.  Every- 
thing else  remained  undecided. 


THE  ATHENIANS  AT  CATANA. 

were  occupied  simply  by  the  vastness  of  the  enterprise  anc 
by  the  hopes  and  fears  which  w^ere  linked  with  it.  Every 
one  knows  the  description  of  the  state  of  feeling  at  Athens 
which  is  given  by  Thukydides.  He  tells  us  further  that  on 
the  departure  of  the  fleet  the  customary  prayers  and  libations 
were  offered  upon  the  ships  at  the  voice  of  the  herald.  Dio- 
dorus  adds  that  the  shore  of  the  harbor  was  covered  with 
censers  and  consecrated  goblets,  and  that  the  people  on  their 
part  made  libations ;  he  represents,  however,  that  this  was 
not  the  unanimous  act  of  all,  but  of  those  only  whose  proper 
function  it  was  to  minister  in  religious  worship. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  under  which  the  fleet  put  to 
sea,  in  the  archonship  of  Chabrias,  about  midsummer,  b.c.  415. 
On  arriving  at  the  shores  of  Italy,  towards  which  they  flrst 
steered,  they  discovered  that  they  had  not  the  slightest  hope 
of  obtaining  from  Egesta  the  supplies  of  money  which  they 
had  expected.  Nikias  therefore  proposed  that  they  should 
limit  themselves  to  fulfilling  the  obligations  which  they  had 
undertaken,  by  obtaining  for  the  people  of  Egesta,  in  what- 
ever \vay  they  could,  the  rights  they  claimed,  and  should  then 
return  home,  refraining  from  attempts  which  would  involve 
the  state  in  incalculable  expense  and  endanger  their  great 
armada.  This,  however,  would  have  been  to  stultify  the 
whole  proceeding;  and  Alkibiades  urged  that  it  would  bo 
better  to  obtain  a  firm  footing  upon  the  island,  gain  over 
some  allies,  and,  having  laid  this  foundation,  begin  hostilities 
against  Syracuse.  Ilis  view  prevailed,  and,  in  conformity 
with  that  riglit  of  the  stronger  which  Athens  had  proclaimed, 
they  got  possession,  not  without  some  double-dealing,  of  the 
city  of  Catana,  in  the  harbor  of  which  the  Athenian  fleet  then 
found  shelter.  Of  the  colonies  connected  by  race  with  Ath-  > 
ens,  Naxos  came  to  her  side,  and  it  would  perhaps  have 
needed  only  a  single  success  to  bring  about  a  great  revolution 
in  Sicily.* 

*  The  well-informed  authority  whom  Diodorus  follows  says  expressly 
that  the  cities  of  the  Sikeli,  though  leaning  for  their  own  part  towards 
the  Syracusans,  would  have  looked  on  quite  quietly  and  awaited  the 
issue  of  the  struggle  (xiii.  4) :  at  rwv  StfcsXwv  TroXeig  ry  \iiv  evvoigi  irpoQ  2u- 
paKOffiovQ  eppeirov,  ofi(og  5'  Iv  T/<Tyx'f  l^'^vovaai  to  avufSijaofiEvop  iKapadoKOvv. 


256  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

But  at  the  very  moment  when  the  enterprise  was  thus 
fairly  begun  in  accordance  with  the  projects  of  Alkibiades, 
the  Sahiminian  trireme  appeared  in  the  harbor  of  Catana  to 
recall  Iiim.  His  antagonists,  who,  at  the  time  when  Alki- 
biades carried  the  resolution  in  favor  of  the  expedition,  had 
bound  themselves  to  counteract  the  execution  of  his  scheme, 
and  to  put  a  period  to  the  dangerous  growth  of  his  influence, 
had  lately  renewed  their  attacks.  It  was  a  son  of  Kimon 
who  accused  him  of  having  derided  Demeter  and  Persephone, 
the  goddesses  of  Eleusis,  and  in  his  absence  procured  a  reso- 
lution calling  him  to  account  for  having  turned  the  Eleusin- 
ian  mysteries  into  ridicule.*  So  much  importance  was  still 
attached  at  Athens  to  his  connection  with  the  Argives  and 
the  Mantineians,  who  continued  to  be  attached  to  him,  that 
he  was  not  at  once  put  under  arrest,  but  was  allowed  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  freedom  in  the  return  voyage  to  Athens,  in 
the  course  of  which  the  vessels  touched  at  the  shores  of  Italy. 
At  Thurii,  however,  Alkibiades,  with  some  others  who  were 
implicated  in  the  same  accusation,  fearing  that  on  his  arrival 
at  Athens  he  would  be  condemned  to  death,  quitted  the  ship 
— it  was  his  own — on  which  he  was  sailing,  and  succeeded  in 
making  good  his  escape.  He  was  once  asked  if  that  was  all 
the  trust  he  placed  in  his  native  country ;  his  answer  was 
that  in  a  danger  which  threatened  his  life  he  would  not  trust 
even  his  own  mother,  who  might  easily  make  a  mistake  be- 
tween a  black  ball  and  a  white  one.  Yet  unquestionably  ho 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  prove  to  his  native  city,  by  all  the 
means  at  his  command,  not  merely  that  he  was  still  alive,  but 
that  she  could  do  nothing  without  him,  and  even  from  a  dis- 
tance to  chastise  the  enemies  who  had  banished  him  from 
home  and  country.  Animated  by  the  proudest  consciousness 
of  his  own  worth,  he  felt  himself  no  longer  a  citizen  of  the 
state  to  which  he  belonged,  and  severed  without  hesitation 
every  tie,  to  enter  upon  a  course  in  which  he  obeyed  the  guid- 
ance of  his  own  star  alone. 


•  According  to  Thukydidcs,  the  resolution  to  recftll  Alkibiades  was 
formed  with  the  express  intention  of  destroying  liim  (vi.  01,  fiovXofuvoi 
aifviy  ic  Kpiviv  &yay6vTtQ  6,iroKnivaC), 


SIEGE  OF  SYRACUSE.  257 

Something  resembling  this  had  already  been  seen  in  the 
instance  of  Themistocles.  But  to  Themistocles  his  position 
at  Athens  was  all  in  all,  and,  at  the  crisis  when  he  was  ex- 
pected to  fight  against  his  native  land,  his  death,  probably 
self-determined,  put  him  beyond  the  reach  of  this  necessity. 
Alkibiades,  on  the  contrary,  contemplated  from  the  outset  an 
attack  upon  Athens.  He  declared  that  the  Lakedaemonians 
were  not  such  deadly  enemies  to  Athens  as  the  party  in  his 
native  city  which  had  expelled  him,  Alkibiades,  the  people's 
best  friend.  It  would  even  have  displeased  him  had  Athens, 
without  his  help,  obtained  supremacy  over  Greece,  and  the 
commanding  position  in  the  world  which  he  had  desired  to 
procure  for  her,  for  that  position  would  then  have  been  the 
portion  of  his  antagonists.  These  it  was  his  principal  aim  to 
crush,  and  he  even  thought  it  better  to  put  the  Spartans  in 
possession  of  a  supremacy  which  they  would  wield  with  mod- 
eration, than  to  let  it  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  government  so 
unjust  as  that  of  Athens.  The  development  of  the  naval 
power  of  Athens  to  its  furthest  possible  extent,  that  idea 
which  had  hitherto,  under  all  her  leaders,  whatever  their 
party,  given  life  and  aim  to  the  energies  of  Athens,  on  the 
lines  initiated  by  Themistocles,  was  abandoned  by  the  ver}' 
man  who  had  been  its  most  vigorous  advocate  and  champion. 

This  historian  of  the  epoch  was  told  that  Alkibiades,  who 
repaired  under  a  safe-conduct  to  Sparta,  made  two  suggestions 
of  a  nature  disastrous  to  Athens.  The  first  was  to  establish 
in  the  district  of  Attica  a  fortified  place,  from  which  they 
might  harass  the  country  without  intermission,  and  so  impair 
the  inland  resources  of  Athens  as  to  render  illusory  the  ob- 
jects for  which  her  long  walls  were  built.  The  second  was 
to  send  the  Syracusans  considerable  assistance,  or  at  least  an 
experienced  general  to  conduct  their  defence.  In  the  nature 
of  things,  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  assume  that 
the  Spartan  Ephors,  men  of  intelligence  and  observation, 
could  have  arrived  without  assistance  at  notions  so  obvious  as 
these;  but  we  have  followed  the  authority  of  the  conscien- 
tious and  well-informed  historian  who  attributes  these  plans 
to  the  inspiration  of  Alkibiades ;  and  no  one  would  attempt 
to  deny  that  he  contributed  towards  their  adoption.     The 

17 


258  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

mission  of  a  skilful  leader  to  Syracuse  was  in  particular  a 
matter  of  urgent  necessity.  Nikias  had  meanwhile  opened 
and  prosecuted  the  war  against  Syracuse  with  success,  though 
the  town  was  stoutly  defended  by  Hermocrates ;  his  hoplites 
had  achieved  some  advantages  by  land  and  taken  possession 
of  the  heights  which  commanded  the  fortifications  of  Syra- 
cuse, whilst  the  fleet  cut  off  all  communication  with  Greece. 
Turbulent  movements  began  to  make  their  appearance  in  the 
city,  and  it  appears  that  an  accommodation  was  contemplated, 
by  which  Syracuse  would  have  secured  her  existence  on  con- 
dition of  acknowledging  the  sovereignty  of  Athens. 

This  was  the  very  danger  of  which  Alkibiades  warned  the 
Spartans,  and  he  advised  them  above  all  things  to  prevent 
any  arrangement  between  Athens  and  Syracuse.  Accord- 
ingly a  Corinthian  vessel,  succeeding  in  spite  of  the  Athenian 
fleet  in  reaching  Syracuse,  brought  the  news  that  Lakedaemon, 
the  ancient  capital  of  the  Dorian  race,  would  not  abandon 
them,  but  would  shortly'-  send  them  an  experienced  general. 
The  news  was  decisive  of  the  war.  The  Syracusans  recovered 
confidence  in  their  cause,  and  soon  afterwards  the  Spartan 
Gylippus  appeared  to  take  in  hand  the  defence  (late  summer, 
414  B.C.).  The  sense  of  relationship  combined  with  the  great 
interest  at  stake  to  secure  exact  obedience  to  his  orders,  and 
the  defence  was  soon  transformed  into  an  attack  upon  the 
besiegers,  in  which  the  latter  found  their  situation  at  every 
step  more  disadvantageous.  At  the  same  time  a  Corinthian 
squadron  succeeded  in  making  its  way  into  the  harbor  of 
Syracuse.  The  Athenians  had  designed  not  onl}^  to  over- 
power Syracuse,  but  to  make  it  a  position  from  which  they 
might  become  masters  of  Peloponnesus:  it  was  therefore  in 
the  defence  of  Syracuse  that  all  the  forces  of  Peloponnesus 
were  now  combined.  A  considerable  reinforcement  which 
arrived  from  Athens  was  unable  to  restore  the  balance  in 
favor  of  the  Athenians,  and  they  determined  to  seek  safety  in 
a  hasty  retreat  whilst  retreat  was  still  possible. 

The  cause  which  prevented  them  was  a  very  noteworthy 
one.  It  was  no  other  than  the  ancient  superstition  which 
Pericles  and  the  philosophers  had  combated,  one  closely  con- 
neetcd  with  those  rites  the  presumptuous  mockery  of  which 


RUIN  OF  THE  SYRACUSAN  EXPEDITION.  259 

had  occasioned  the  recall  of  Alkibiades.  It  is,  indeed,  strange 
to  see  on  the  one  hand  the  principle  of  might  pursued,  as  at 
Melos,  to  its  extremest  consequences,  just  as  though  there 
were  no  protecting  deities  to  take  up  the  cause  of  the  weak, 
and  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  this  blind  adherence  to  the  old  be- 
lief in  the  gods.  When  all  was  ready  for  their  departure, 
the  occurrence  of  an  eclipse  of  the  moon  (August  27,  413 
B.C.)  threw  the  troops  and  their  leader,  Nikias,  into  such  a 
state  of  terror  that  they  gave  up  the  retreat,  and  they  pur- 
posed, according  to  the  directions  of  the  soothsayers,  to  wait 
thrice  nine  days  before  coming  to  a  decision.  This  delay 
was  their  destruction.  The  proceedings  connected  with  the 
mutilation  of  the  Ilermae  had  checked  their  enterprise,  after 
it  had  been  undertaken  past  recall.  And  now  the  occurrence 
of  an  eclipse  of  the  moon  prevented  the  deliverance  of  the 
fleet  when  it  was  still  possible  to  effect  it.  The  Athenians 
were,  indeed,  even  now  more  numerous  than  their  enemies  in 
the  harbor,  but  the  limited  space  deprived  them  of  the  su- 
periority which  they  derived  in  naval  actions  from  greater 
rapidity  of  movement.  Their  antagonists  had  improved 
tlieir  triremes  by  additions  which  made  them  superior  to  the 
Athenian  vessels  in  a  conflict  of  ship  against  ship.  In  the 
first  serious  encounter  the  Athenian  fleet,  the  mainstay  of  the 
power  of  the  republic,  was  annihilated.  A  like  destruction 
next  overtook  the  land  forces.  The  survivors  of  those  who 
had  hoped  to  conquer  the  world  were  condemned  to  labor  in 
the  stone  quarries.  The  two  commanders-in-chief  by  land 
and  sea  were  put  to  death  by  the  Syracusans. 

Whilst  the  design  of  extending  the  power  of  Athens  tow- 
ards the  West  was  thus  completely  shipwrecked,  the  course 
of  events  brought  about  a  blow  still  more  disastrous  to  her 
power  in  the  other  direction,  in  which  it  had  been  consoli- 
dated by  Miltiades  and  Kimon.  Her  Ionian  allies  now  roused 
themselves  to  the  endeavor  to  relieve  themselves  of  the  op- 
pressive yoke  which  the  Athenians  had  imposed  upon  them. 
And  here  we  remark  that  the  event  of  the  struggle  at  Syra- 
cuse exercised  an  important  influence  upon  the  general  situa- 
tion in  its  widest  extent.  In  Sicily  the  Carthaginians,  who 
had  enlisted  a  portion  of  the  Athenian  mercenaries,  men 


260  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

whose  ideas  were  limited  to  the  payment  they  could  get  for 
military  service,  obtained  a  preponderance  which  at  length, 
although  only  gradually,  made  itself  felt.  In  Asia  Minor  the 
action  taken  by  the  allies  of  Athens  excited  the  ambition  of 
Tissaphernes,  the  satrap  of  Sardis.  Here  once  more  we  find 
the  influence  of  Alkibiades  at  work.  It  was  through  his  in- 
tervention that  LakedoBmon  entered  into  a  league  with  the 
Persians,  directed  against  the  maritime  power  of  Athens. 
That  power  still  existed  in  the  ^gean  Sea  and  on  the  coasts 
of  Ionia,  but  had  already  become  impaired.  Even  Chios  re- 
linquished her  usual  caution  and  fell  away  from  her.  These 
events  took  place  in  the  summer  of  414  b.c.  In  order  com- 
pletely to  crush  the  maritime  authority  of  the  Athenians,  the 
Persians  guaranteed  to  the  Lakedsemonians  subsidies  which 
enabled  them  to  send  a  considerable  fleet  to  sea. 

The  centre  of  universal  interest  was  thus  transferred  to  an- 
other point,  and  the  great  question,  to  which  all  others  were 
secondary,  was  whether  the  power  of  Athens  would  be  main- 
tained or  not.  Every  other  consideration,  compared  with 
this,  had  to  withdraw  into  the  background.  The  novel  spec- 
tacle was  presented  of  the  Greeks  assisting  the  Great  King  to 
subdue  his  revolted  nobles,*  in  return  for  his  promise  to  send 
Phoenician  ships  to  the  help  of  the  Peloponnesians,  combined 
against  Athens.  The  treaties  which  liad  been  made  with  the 
Persians  hitherto  had  been  only  of  a  transitory  nature,  and 
even  in  the  districts  which  had  nominally  remained  under 
Persian  control  the  power  of  the  Athenians  had  been  strong 
enough  to  collect  the  tributes  established  in  their  league.  In 
the  events  which  were  now  taking  place  we  see  a  complete 
reversal  of  that  condition  of  things  which  had  resulted  a 
generation  earlier  in  the  arrangement  called  the  Peace  of 
Kimon.  The  main  condition  of  this  compact  was  the  com- 
plete exclusion  of  the  Persians  from  the  affairs  of  Greece  by 
sea  as  well  as  by  land,  in  return  for  which  the  Athenians  had 
pledged  themselves  to  leave  the  Persian  empire  unmolested. 


♦  Amorgcs,  the  natural  son  of  Pissuthncs,  satrap  of  Lyclia,  who  had 
made  an  alliance  with  the  oligarchs  at  Samos  in  the  year  440  (Thuk. 
Till  28). 


ALLIANCE  BETWEEN  SPAETA  AND  PERSLA.  261 

Now,  however,  the  latter — and  that  too  by  the  instrumentality 
of  the  great  leader  of  Athens  in  alliance  with  the  Lakedae- 
monians — was  relieved  of  that  obligation,  and  the  reappear- 
ance of  Phoenician  ships  in  the  Archipelago  approved.  The 
Lakedaemonians  conceded  that  the  whole  region  which  be- 
longed to  the  king,  whether  then  or  formerly,  was  to  remain 
in  its  allegiance  or  return  to  it.*  They  thus  virtually  gave 
up  the  claim  of  the  maritime  districts  to  be  emancipated  from 
the  Persian  dominion,  and  in  this  they  found  considerable 
support  in  the  islands,  which  had  long  been  weary  of  the 
Athenian  rule. 

The  way  in  which  the  Athenians,  even  in  tliis  difficult 
situation,  still  maintained  their  ground,  has  always  excited 
admiration.  They  appropriated  the  thousand  talents  which 
were  reserved  in  the  citadel  for  emergencies  of  this  kind. 
The  idea  of  a  state  treasury  as  conceived  by  Pericles  thus 
proved  most  salutary.  The  Athenians,  moreover,  had  still 
the  Argives  upon  their  side.  They  succeeded  once  more  in 
effecting  a  landing  upon  the  shores  of  Asia  Minor,  and  in 
overcoming  the  revolted  city  of  Miletus,  as  well  as  the  Lake- 
daemonians who  had  come  to  its  assistance  (end  of  summer, 
412  B.C.).  We  remark  here  in  general  that  the  tribal  relations, 
that  legacy  of  a  remote  past  the  memory  of  which  had  been 
so  often  recalled  in  more  recent  times,  were  in  these  trans- 
actions completely  disregarded.  In  spite  of  their  Ionian  ori- 
gin the  Milesians  went  over  to  the  Lakedaemonians,  while  the 
Argives,  who  were  Dorians,  fought  on  the  side  of  the  Athe- 
nians. Kept  together  by  no  common  sentiment,  the  unity 
of  Hellas  broke  up  into  groups  united  by  ephemeral  alli- 
ances. 

In  the  battle  of  which  we  have  just  spoken  lonians,  as  rep- 
resented by  the  Milesians,  maintained  their  ground  against 
Dorians,  as  represented  by  the  Argives,  whilst  on  the  other 
hand  the  allies  of  Miletus,  the  Lakedaemonians,  were  defeated 

*  In  the  first  treaty  concluded  between  the  Lakedsemonians  and  the 
Persians  the  words  are,  oiroariv  xwjoar  nai  ttoXe/c  jSatriXivg  £X€t,  Kai  01  Trartpes 
01  (SamXetoQ  dxov,  jSamXsujg  tcrrio  (Thiik.  viii.  18) ;  in  the  third,  eftected  in 
the  winter  411-410  (Thuk.  viii.  57),  x^pav  ti^v  (3a<Ti\su)g,  oar}  rrJQ  'Atriag  l(TTi, 
f3a(Ti\k<>)g  elvat  kuI  rrfpi  Trjg  X'^P^Q  '"'H*  f^ctvTov  (iovXEViTU)  (iaaiXEvg  oTriog  /SovXcrai. 


262  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

by  the  Athenians,  lonians  of  ancient  descent.  The  latter  ad- 
vantage decided  the  battle.  The  Athenians  determined  to 
besiege  Miletus,  by  the  conquest  of  which  they  hoped  once 
more  to  become  masters  of  the  whole  sea-coast.  Alkibiades 
was  on  the  spot,  and  is  said  to  have  advised  the  Spartan  fleet, 
which  arrived  at  this  juncture,  and  which  now  included  some 
Sicilian  triremes,  twenty-one  from  Syracuse  and  two  from 
Selinus,  not  to  look  on  quietly  whilst  Miletus  was  reduced, 
but  to  attack  the  Athenian  fleet,  then  lying  at  anchor  before 
the  town,  without  delay.  The  Athenians,  however,  did  not 
feel  themselves  strong  enough  to  resist  so  formidable  a  com- 
bination. It  was  the  same  as  that  to  which  they  had  suc- 
cumbed in  the  harbor  of  Syracuse.  Their  principal  antago- 
nist at  Syracuse,  Hermocrates,  was  in  this  very  fleet,  and  there 
was  besides  every  probability  that  the  Persians  would  attack 
them  by  land.  Phrynichus,  the  Athenian  admiral,  was  un- 
•willing  to  bring  upon  himself  the  fate  of  Nikias  and  Demos- 
thenes. He  made  a  timely  retreat  to  Samos,  and  the  siege  of 
Miletus  was  raised.  The  Peloponnesians  had  gained,  not,  in- 
deed, an  actual  victory,  but  still  a  decided  advantage.  The 
revolt  already  commenced  could  now  no  longer  be  repressed. 
On  the  contrary,  it  spread  both  towards  tlie  north  and  the 
south.  Rhodes,  Sestos,  and  Abydos  fell  away,  and  Lesbos 
showed  an  inclination  to  follow  their  example.  The  Delian 
League,  on  which  the  greatness  of  Athens  depended,  was  fall- 
ing to  pieces.     Even  in  Euboea  an  insurrection  broke  out. 

The  position  of  Alkibiades  in  the  midst  of  this  conflict, 
which  he  had  himself  brought  about,  is  a  peculiar  one.  It 
suggests  a  general  observation,  which  we  may  be  permitted 
to  make  in  this  place.  All  the  states  of  antiquity  were  held 
together  and  animated  by  the  feeling  of  a  common  bond  be- 
tween citizen  and  citizen ;  sovereignty  was  regarded  as  resid- 
ing in  the  community  as  a  whole,  and  no  one  could  dissociate 
himself  from  the  interests  of  the  rest,  upon  pain  of  forfeiting 
his  life.  Alkibiades,  however,  had  broken  this  fundamental 
law.  He  made  an  arbitrary  use  of  his  personal  position  to 
thwart  his  native  city.  Being  nothing  more  than  a  citizen, 
he  yet  followed  a  policy  peculiar  to  himself  in  order  to  over- 
power his  opponents,  who,  though  simple  citizens  themselves, 


ALKIBIADES  IN  OPPOSITION.  263 

held  the  supreme  power  at  Atliens  in  their  hands.  "VVe  shall 
see  elsewhere  that  this  was  the  way  in  which  the  Roman  re- 
public, the  greatest  which  ever  existed,  was  transformed  into 
a  monarchy.  Alkibiades  was  never  in  a  position  to  conceive 
such  a  design ;  he  had  not  at  his  command,  like  Caesar,  a 
power  of  his  own  by  which  to  maintain  his  authority  against 
his  antagonists.  He  could  only  achieve  this  end  by  setting 
her  most  powerful  neighbors  in  motion  against  his  native  city. 
It  soon,  however,  became  apparent  that  the  interests  of 
these  states  were  divergent  from  his  own.  Originally  in 
league  with  the  Lakedsemonians,  Alkibiades  now  found  it 
necessary  to  oppose  them.  It  could  never  have  been  his  in- 
tention to  procure  for  the  Lakedaemonians  an  unconditional 
preponderance ;  this  would  have  been  only  to  give  himself  a 
change  of  masters.  His  keenest  efforts  were  actuated  by  a 
desire  to  obtain  a  footing  in  Athens  once  more,  but  at  the 
same  time  he  wished  to  maintain  her  autonomy  against  the 
Lakedaemonians.  Herein  he  found  a  supporter  in  Tissa- 
phernes,  whom  he  is  said  to  have  reminded  that  it  was  not  to 
the  interest  of  Persia  to  allow  the  dominion  of  the  sea  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  Sparta,  but  rather  to  keep  Athens  and 
Sparta  in  equilibrium.  In  this  case,  as  in  others,  a  political 
idea,  in  itself  obvious  enough,  is  attributed  to  the  influence 
of  Alkibiades.  It  was  an  idea  of  vital  importance  for  the 
preservation  of  Athens.  But  it  is  obvious  that  it  could  not 
be  acted  on  without  the  consent  of  the  supreme  authorities 
in  the  city  itself.  Here,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  op- 
posite parties  had  been  formed,  and  views  widely  divergent 
were  entertained.  In  order  to  understand  the  somewhat  in- 
tricate course  of  the  movements  which  were  decisive  of  the 
main  result,  we  must  once  more  make  Athens  the  principal 
object  on  which  our  eyes  are  to  be  fixed. 

6.  State  of  Things  at  Athens  during  the  Years  immediately 
hefore  and  after  the  End  of  the  Peloponnesian  War, 

The  admirals  of  the  fleet  at  Samos  were  convinced  that  re- 
sistance to  the  combined  forces  of  Lakedaemon  and  Persia 
was  impossible.  They  were  therefore  inclined  to  welcome 
the  prospect  opened  to  them  by  a  coalition  between  Alkibia- 


26i  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

des  and  Tissaphernes  against  the  Lakedsemonians,  wliile  they 
favored  a  movement  in  the  city  opposed  to  the  absolutism  of 
a  pure  democracy.  The  internal  commotions  of  the  Athe- 
nian communit}^  were  undoubtedly  the  result  of  external  com- 
plications. The  democracy,  to  which  Alkibiades  owed  his 
banisliment,  stood  condemned,  so  soon  as  it  was  seen  to  be  no 
longer  capable,  in  spite  of  all  its  efforts,  of  defending  the 
state.  Its  maintenance  became  impossible  when  it  appeared 
that  Alkibiades  would  have  to  be  recalled,  if  his  negotiations 
with  Tissaphernes  were  to  be  brought  to  a  successful  termi- 
nation. Alkibiades,  however,  had  no  wish  to  be  recalled  by 
those  who  had  expelled  him.  On  the  contrary,  his  passionate 
desire  for  vengeance  could  be  satisfied  by  nothing  less  than 
their  destruction.  His  aims  were  furthered  by  the  state  of 
the  democracy  at  the  time.  It  was  easy  to  find  just  cause  of 
complaint  against  it  in  the  pay  given  to  the  heliasts  and  the 
political  supremacy  which  the  lower  classes  had  obtained. 
But  the  opposition  which  the  democracy  had  to  encounter 
was  of  a  twofold  nature.  The  democratic  government  in  its 
present  form  was  to  be  abolished.  So  far  all  were  agreed. 
The  question  was.  What  would  be  the  effect  of  such  a  change 
in  so  thoroughly  democratic  a  state  as  Athens  ?  What  form 
of  government  was  to  take  the  place  of  the  democracy  ? 

What  in  fact  happened  was  that  the  commanders  of  the 
fleet  and  the  opponents  of  republican  government  in  the  city 
decided  on  measures  of  revolutionary  violence  against  the 
democracy.  The  course  of  events  was  similar  to  that  which 
took  place  in  the  Italian  republics  of  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries,  when  a  "Balia"  used  to  be  intrusted  with 
the  revision  of  the  constitution.  At  Athens  a  commission 
was  nominated  by  popular  vote  for  a  similar  object.  Certain 
men  of  the  highest  authority  took  sides  with  the  coming  oli- 
garchy. The  most  important  of  these  was  Antiphon,  the 
founder  of  the  art  of  rhetoric,  who  appears  to  have  taken  the 
lead  throughout.  What  he  proposed,  or  rather  what  the  com- 
mission resolved,  bore  the  stamp  of  a  violent  reaction.  Five 
men  of  similar  views  were  to  increase  their  number  by  co- 
optation  to  a  hundred.  Each  of  these  was  empowered  to  add 
three  more.    The  Council  of  Four  Hundred  thus  composed 


SUPPRESSION   OF  THE  DEMOCRACY.  265 

were  thenceforward  to  exercise  control  over  public  affairs. 
Here,  too,  we  are  reminded  of  the  Italian  parliaments.  Al- 
most exactly  in  the  Italian  fashion  the  people  were  then  sum- 
moned to  meet  at  Colonus,  and  gave  their  sanction  to  all  that 
was  done  (411  b.c).  Thereupon  the  democratic  Five  Hun- 
dred retired  from  the  council-hall  and  made  way  for  the  four 
hundred  oligarchs.  The  change  was  as  thorough  as  it  was 
sudden.  A  popular  assembly  of  Five  Thousand  was  indeed 
supposed  to  exist,  but  whether  it  should  meet  or  not  was  left 
to  the  Four  Hundred  to  decide.  They  governed  as  they 
thought  fit.  The  most  important  matter  which  called  for 
their  consideration  was  their  position  with  regard  to  Sparta. 
Their  inclination  did  not  go  quite  so  far  as  submission  to  the 
Lakedgemonians.  A  Lakedaemonian  column  marching  from 
Dekeleia  was  repelled  from  the  walls  of  Athens.  But,  though 
unwilling  to  submit,  they  were  quite  willing  to  make  peace 
and  even  alliance  with  Lakedasmon.  Theramenes  himself,  a 
worthy  colleague  of  Antiphon,  declared  that  the  constitutional 
change  was  accepted  by  the  people  because  it  was  likely  to 
inspire  confidence  towards  Athens  in  the  minds  of  the  Lake- 
dgemonians.* 

Partiality  for  Lakedfemon  was,  however,  directly  opposed 
to  the  intentions  of  the  fleet.  If  an  oligarchy  of  this  kind 
were  established,  Alkibiades  would  liave  no  chance  of  return. 
The  fleet  at  Samos,  engaged  in  a  struggle  with  the  Lakedae- 
monians  for  maritime  supremacy,  could  not  humble  itself  so 
far  as  to  sue  the  enemy  for  peace.  On  the  contrary,  it  in- 
sisted that  Tissaphernes  should  be  won  over  by  Alkibiades. 
Against  all  that  Alkibiades  had  hitherto  projected  or  carried 
out  sound  objections  may  be  raised.  But  at  this  juncture, 
when  the  safety  of  Athens  was  at  stake,  his  conduct  was 
blameless  and  even  noble.  He  came  in  person  to  Samos.  It 
was  at  the  very  moment  when  the  naval  force,  enraged  at  the 
proceedings  at  Athens,  was  preparing  for  an  attack  on  the 
Peirseus  and  the  oligarchy  was  arming  itself  for  resistance. 

*  Xenophon,  "  Hellenica,"  ii.  3, 45.  The  observations  of  Grote  ("  His- 
tory of  Greece,"  viii.  18,  note  2)  may  perhaps  be  ascribed  to  a  precon- 
ceived opinion,  whicli  has  sometimes  a  detrimental  effect  on  the  work  of 
that  excellent  historian. 


266  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

At  this  point  Alkibiades  showed  himself  superior  to  party 
spirit.  He  represented  to  the  trierarchs  the  danger  to  which 
their  conduct  would  expose  the  power  of  Athens  at  every 
point;  Ionia  and  the  Hellespont  would  at  once  desert  their 
cause,  and  the  Lakedaemonians  would  become  omnipotent  in 
that  quarter.  He  had  now  become  one  of  the  Strategi,  and 
he  used  his  official  position  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation  be- 
tween the  two  parties.  He  declared  that,  for  his  own  part, 
reconciliation  with  the  Four  Hundred  was  impossible,  but 
that  he  should  be  satisfied  if  the  resolution  already  mentioned 
were  carried  into  effect,  and  the  Assembly  of  Five  Thou- 
sand were  endowed  with  the  reality  instead  of  the  semblance 
of  authority. 

This  compromise  was  of  a  nature  very  agreeable  to  his  per- 
sonal feelings.  The  democracy  was  to  be  restored,  but  not  the 
democracy  by  which  he  was  banished,  for  the  Five  Thousand 
consisted  only  of  those  who  were  capable  of  providing  them- 
selves with  arms.  The  whole  tendency  of  things  at  Athens 
pointed  the  same  way.  A  division  showed  itself  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Four  Hundred.  The  extreme  oligarchs  were  inclined 
to  go  further  in  the  direction  of  alliance  with  Sparta  than  the 
moderate  party  thought  compatible  with  the  welfare  of  the 
state.  In  the  midst  of  this  crisis  a  battle  between  the  fleets 
of  Athens  and  Sparta  took  place  off  the  coast  of  Eubcea.  Tlie 
former,  which  had  to  cope  with  the  hostility  of  the  islanders 
as  well,  was  beaten,  and  the  island  fell  into  the  power  of  the 
Lakedsemonians.  This  event  caused  extreme  anxiety  at 
Atliens.  Resistance  to  the  Lakcdoemonians  would  have  been 
impossible  had  they  made  an  immediate  attack  upon  the  Pei- 
rsBUS.  The  historian  of  the  period  allows  that  nothing  but 
their  dilatoriness  saved  Athens.  The  danger  was  imminent, 
and,  since  aid  could  no  longer  be  expected  from  any  quarter 
except  tlie  fleet  and  army  at  Samos,  their  demands  could  not 
be  refused.  All  licsitation  came  to  an  end.  The  popular  as- 
sembly in  the  Pnyx  accepted  the  proposals  of  the  fleet,  Alki- 
biades was  recalled,  the  Council  of  Four  Hundred  was  abol- 
ished (411  B.C.).  On  the  other  hand,  the  Assembly  of  Five 
Thousand  was  called  into  being,  and  was  recognized  as  the 
sovereign  people  of  Athens. 


THE    DEMOCRACY   RESTORED.  267 

Tlmkydides  holds  this  to  be  the  best  considered  of  all  the 
political  reforms  that  took  place  at  Athens  during  his  lifetime. 
It  will  appear  shortly  that  various  fresh  complications  were 
connected  with  the  change,  bat  for  the  time  being  the  idea  of 
the  democracy  was  saved,  while  it  was  clothed  in  a  more 
moderate  and  practical  form.  It  is  nevertheless  the  opinion 
of  our  historian  that  all  would  have  been  lost  had  the  Phoe- 
nician fleet  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  sail,  which  was  already  in 
the  neighborhood,  made  common  cause  with  the  Lakedaemo- 
nians.  Alkibiades  always  took  credit  for  persuading  Tissa- 
phernes  to  send  the  fleet  home,  and  I  see  no  reason  for 
refusing  to  believe  him.  The  vacillating  policy  of  Tissaphernes 
can  only  be  explained  on  the  hypothesis  that  he  was  unwill- 
ing to  see  the  total  destruction  of  Athens,  and  nothing  but 
the  presence  in  Athens  of  Alkibiades,  in  whom  he  had  great 
confidence,  could  hinder  this  event.  It  was  a  matter  of  less 
importance  that  Tissaphernes'  neighbor,  Pharnabazus,  satrap 
of  Phrygia,  clung  to  the  league  between  the  king  of  Persia 
and  the  Peloponnesians,  and  supported  the  latter  with  all  his 
might.  The  Phoenician  fleet  failed  to  appear,  and  the  more 
considerable  of  the  two  satraps  renounced  the  cause  of  the 
Peloponnesians.  The  Athenians  could  show  themselves  again 
with  greater  confidence  at  sea.  This  confidence  was  much  in- 
creased when,  in  the  first  collision  with  the  Lakedaemonian  and 
Syracusan  fleets  off  Kynossema,  they  won  a  decisive  victory 
over  the  allies  (411  b.c).  This  triumph  seemed  to  wipe  off 
the  stain  of  the  defeat  in  the  harbor  of  Syracuse.  The  hopes 
which  the  victory  raised  at  Athens  were  strengthened  soon 
after  by  another  great  success.  A  battle  by  sea  and  land,  in 
which  Alkibiades  took  part,  was  fought  near  Kyzikus.  The 
Peloponnesians  were  defeated  with  great  loss,  and  Kyzikus 
itself  was  reconquered  by  the  Athenians  (410  e.g.).  The  Lake- 
daemonian commanders  were  deeply  depressed  by  this  event ; 
their  announcement  of  it  began  with  the  words,  "  Our  good 
luck  is  gone."  The  desertion  by  Alkibiades  of  his  country's 
cause  inflicted  the  severest  losses  on  Athens.  It  was  his 
reconciliation  which,  more  than  any  other  event,  prevented 
her  complete  overthrow.  To  him  was  due  even  the  recon- 
quest  of  Byzantium. 


268  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

Had  lie  stopped  short  at  this  point,  had  he  secured  Athens 
in  a  position  of  safety,  and  established  her  among  the  great 
powers  of  the  world,  he  would  have  won  immortal  renown  as 
the  savior  of  his  country.  But  this  consummation  was  again 
hindered  by  political  differences  with  his  allies.  Everything 
depended  on  his  inducing  the  satrap  to  spare  Athens  and 
desert  Lakedsemon.  But  Tissaphernes  was  not  an  independ- 
ent prince,  and  the  Great  King  felt  himself  bound  to  Lakedae- 
mon  by  the  treaty  which  he  had  shortly  before  made  with 
that  power.  A  satrap  might,  in  tlie  confusion  of  the  moment, 
resolve  on  reconciliation  with  Athens,  but  such  a  measure  was 
not  likely  to  meet  with  approval  at  Susa.  It  was  merely  a 
personal  resolution  of  the  satrap,  which  set  him  at  variance 
with  his  government.  He  had  no  sooner  taken  up  this  new 
line  than  he  had  to  abandon  it  again,  and  Alkibiades  himself 
was  the  first  to  discover  the  change  in  his  attitude.  Full  of 
the  self-confidence  with  which  recent  successes  had  inspired 
him,  he  had  returned  to  Tissaphernes,  with  the  intention,  one 
may  well  suppose,  of  establishing  the  alliance  on  a  permanent 
footing.  But  the  satrap  was  no  longer  what  he  had  been. 
All  his  former  cordiality  had  disappeared,  and  Alkibiades, 
perceiving  that  he  was  in  danger  of  imprisonment,  resolved 
to  make  his  escape  as  soon  as  possible.  The  satrap  does  not 
appear  to  have  pursued  liis  former  friend  with  all  the  vindic- 
tiveness  which  is  customary  in  such  cases,  but  a  continuation 
of  their  former  relations  was  impossible.  The  alliance  be- 
tween Athens  and  the  satrap  of  Sardis  came  to  an  end.  Tis- 
saphernes soon  afterwards  made  way  for  Cyrus,  the  king's 
younger  son,  who  appeared  as  Karanos  of  Asia  Minor.  We 
shall  have  more  to  say  about  him  presently ;  it  is  enough  at 
this  point  to  state  that  he  at  once  re-establislied  the  ancient 
alliance  between  Persia  and  Sparta.  The  liistorian  who  ex- 
amines these  circumstances  after  the  lapse  of  centuries  is 
struck  by  the  extent  to  which  the  fate  of  Greece  in  general, 
and  of  Athens  and  Alkibiades  in  particular,  was  dependent 
on  the  fluctuations  of  Persian  policy. 

Alkibiades  returned  to  Athens  on  the  day  of  the  festival 
of  the  Plynteria  (May,  408  b.c.),  on  which  the  statues  of  the 
patron  goddess  used  to  be  veiled.    The  day  was  considered 


RETURN  OF    ALKIBIADES.  269 

unlucky.  Later  authors  described  his  return  as  a  triumph ; 
the  nearest  contemporary  witness  has  a  different  story  to  tell. 
According  to  this  authority  Alkibiades  did  not  disembark 
immediately  on  coming  to  land,  but  waited  till  his  nearest 
relations  made  their  appearance  in  the  port.  Then,  attended 
by  a  large  crowd,  he  advanced  towards  the  city.  The  crowd 
was  not,  however,  all  of  one  mind.  Many  considered  him  the 
source  of  all  the  misfortunes  that  had  befallen  Athens.  But 
the  majority  took  his  side,  on  the  ground  that  the  charges 
made  against  him  on  a  former  occasion  were  false.  It  was 
nothing  but  stern  necessity,  said  they,  that  compelled  him, 
even  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  to  ally  himself  with  the  enemies  of 
his  country.  In  the  popular  assembly  Alkibiades  declared 
the  rumor  that  he  had  insulted  the  Eleusinian  mysteries  to 
be  unfounded.  Thereupon  he  was  chosen  commander-in-chief, 
with  absolute  power.  There  was  no  opposition,  for  no  one 
would  have  ventured,  by  dissenting  from  the  proposal,  to 
bring  the  wrath  of  the  assembly  in  its  present  mood  upon 
himself. 

Alkibiades  was  now  regarded  as  the  only  man  capable  of 
restoring  Athens  to  her  old  position.  He  himself  must  have 
already  ceased  to  be  confident  of  success  in  this  direction,  for 
he  was  fully  aware  that  he  had  lost  the  support  of  Persia. 
The  aspect  of  his  native  city,  so  fallen  from  her  high  estate, 
could  only  strike  him  with  a  deeper  melancholy,  for  he  was 
bitterly  conscious  of  having  been  the  main  cause  of  her  down- 
fall, lie  laid  the  blame  on  no  one,  either  on  the  people  or 
his  own  foes ;  he  complained  only  of  his  evil  fortune.  He 
was  eager  to  reconcile  himself  with  his  country  and  her  gods, 
and  his  chief  anxiety  was  that  the  sacred  procession  to  Eleusis 
should  again  pass  along  the  customary  way  towards  the  shrine. 
This  project  he  carried  out,  attended  by  so  strong  a  guard  that 
the  Lakedsemonians,  though  near  at  hand,  did  not  venture  to 
molest  the  procession.  This  done,  he  put  to  sea  again  with 
a  goodly  fleet  (Oct.,  408  e.g.).  It  was  still  expected  of  him 
that  he  would  restore  the  greatness  of  Athens,  but  the  Lake- 
dsemonians had  meanwhile  been  reinforced,  and  offered  a  re- 
sistance that  he  could  not  overcome.  The  advantages  which 
he  contrived  to  win  at  sea  were  rendered  unavailing  by  the 


270  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

obstinacy  of  the  defeated  cities,  which  naturally  put  forth  all 
their  strength  to  avoid  falling  again  under  the  yoke  of  Athens. 
His  plans  were  still  further  thwarted  by  a  severe  repulse 
which  the  fleet  met  with  off  the  Ionian  coast.  Personally 
Alkibiades  was  not  to  blame,  but  the  defeat  was  laid  at  his 
door.  He  had,  it  was  said  at  Athens,  appointed  an  officer  as 
his  lieutenant  who  showed  himself  unflt  for  the  post.  The 
fact  was  that,  even  under  the  newly  constituted  democracy, 
he  had  never  recovered  his  popularity  with  the  masses,  while 
the  crews  of  the  fleet  placed  no  confidence  in  him.  This, 
indeed,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  Great  performances  on 
his  part  were  the  only  means  of  justifying  his  restoration  to 
power. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  the  decisive  influence  of  Persia  on 
these  affairs  makes  itself  most  clearly  felt.  The  needful  vic- 
tories became  impossible  so  soon  as  Persian  gold  in  abundance 
began  to  pour  into  the  coffers  of  Lakedaemon.  Alkibiades 
saw  clearly  enough  the  altered  condition  of  affairs,  but  he 
dared  not  return,  for  the  people  of  Athens  showed  their  dis- 
pleasure by  putting  other  commanders  in  his  place.  The  in- 
dividuality of  his  character  consisted  in  this,  that  he  pushed 
whatever  project  he  had  in  hand  as  far  as  was  possible,  and 
seized  upon  any  means  of  escape  that  remained,  when  his  pol- 
icy appeared  impracticable  and  his  own  safety  was  endan- 
gered. In  the  present  difficulty  his  decision  was  quickly 
taken.  He  resolved  to  leave  the  fleet  and  retire  to  his  forti- 
fled  residence  near  Pactye,  on  the  Thracian  Chersonese.  There 
he  proposed  to  live  as  an  independent  prince,  but  by  no  means 
to  cut  himself  adrift  from  public  affaii-s. 

It  is  time  to  return  to  the  war  in  which  Athens  was  en- 
gaged. Its  peculiarity  consists  in  this,  that  it  had  to  be  car- 
ried on  against  the  allied  forces  of  Persia  and  Lakedeeraon, 
and  against  the  revolted  allies  to  boot.  To  the  credit  of  the 
Athenian  democracy  it  must  be  said  that  it  maintained  the 
unequal  conflict  with  all  its  native  energy.  When  the  Spartans 
under  Callicratidas  again  won  the  upper  hand  at  sea,  the 
Athenians  strained  their  resources  to  the  utmost.  In  the 
space  of  thirty  days  they  manned  a  fleet  of  a  hundred  and  ten 
triremes  with  freemen  and  slaves.    These  efforts  were  reward- 


BATILE  OF  ARGINUS^.  271 

ed  by  a  decisive  victory  ofiE  Arginusse  (Sept.,  406  e.g.),  in 
which  the  Lakedaemonians  lost  nineteen  ships,  with  their  com- 
manders. But  at  the  same  time  the  old  violence  of  party 
spirit  broke  out  anew  in  Athens.  The  eight  Athenian  stra- 
tegi  had  been  prevented  by  a  storm  from  rescuing  the  crews 
of  the  disabled  ships,  and  from  burying  the  dead  who  had 
fallen  in  the  fight.  The  Athenian  people,  animated  as  usual 
by  an  excessive  regard  for  religious  ceremonial,  considered 
this  omission  as  a  criminal  offence.  They  were  not  satisfied 
with  depriving  of  their  ofl^ices  the  commanders  who  had  won 
so  great  a  victory.  Two  of  the  commanders,  who  doubtless 
knew  the  temper  of  the  people,  saved  themselves  by  flight. 
The  rest  were  all  condemned  and  executed.  Men  like  Socra- 
tes opposed  the  proceeding  in  vain.  The  chief  evil  of  these 
religious  antipathies  was  that  political  parties  made  use  of 
them  in  the  struggle  with  their  opponents.  We  have  seen  an 
instance  of  this  already  in  the  trial  of  Alkibiades.  Diomedon, 
one  of  the  commanders,  died  in  the  very  act  of  beseeching 
the  people  to  perform  the  vow  which  he  and  his  colleagues 
had  made  to  Zeus  the  Preserver,  to  Apollo  and  the  Venerable 
Goddesses,  through  whose  aid  the  victory  had  been  won. 

While  Athens  was  in  this  manner  banishing  or  putting  to 
death  the  best  men  in  the  state,  the  Spartan  oligarchy  man- 
aged so  far  to  overcome  its  prejudices  as  to  intrust  the  su- 
preme command  to  one  who,  whatever  might  be  urged  against 
him  on  other  grounds,  was  the  fittest  man  they  could  find  for 
the  post.  This  man  was  Lysander.  The  most  ancient  tradi- 
tion informs  us  that  he  did  not  belong  by  birth  to  the  ruling 
class,  but  to  the  Mothakes,  a  class  consisting  of  those  who,  being 
of  free  descent,  were  adopted  into  the  families  of  the  Spar- 
tiatse,  were  educated  with  the  Spartiate  youth,  and,  by  going 
through  the  whole  course  of  Spartan  discipline,  became  capa- 
ble of  advancement  to  high  positions  in  the  state.  Lysander 
imbibed  to  the  full  that  craving  for  personal  distinction  which 
was  the  product  of  Spartan  education.  Tliough  he  never 
allowed  himself  to  be  seduced  by  bribes,  he  was  well  aware 
what  bribes  could  do.  Brave  as  he  was — and  none  were 
braver — he  is  nevertheless  related  to  have  said,  "  When  the 
lion's  skin  fails  one  must  try  the  fox's  hide."    To  the  simplicity 


272  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

and  straightforwardness  of  Callicratidas  he  brought  the  aid  of 
craft  and  cunning.  He  used  to  say  that  falsehood  was  in  its 
nature  no  worse  than  truth ;  everything  depended  on  the  use 
to  which  it  was  applied.  This  was  the  man  to  whom  the 
Spartans  intrusted  the  supreme  command  against  Athens. 
The  struggle  was  in  itself  uneven.  The  Spartans  might  be 
defeated,  and  yet  not  lost,  whereas  the  very  existence  of 
Athens  depended  on  the  safety  of  her  wooden  walls. 

In  spite  of  this  the  Athenians  displayed  great  want  of  cau- 
tion in  the  management  of  their  affairs.  The  field  of  battle 
was  again  the  Hellespont.  Lysander  had  taken  Lampsacus ; 
the  Athenians  encamped  opposite  to  him  at  ^gospotami. 
Alkibiades,  who  was  residing  in  the  neighborhood,  rode  up  to 
the  Athenian  camp  and  advised  them  to  shift  their  quarters 
to  a  point  nearer  Lesbos,  because  their  ships  were  separated 
from  each  other  while  fetching  provisions  from  thence.  "  We 
are  the  commanders,  not  you,"  was  the  only  answer  he  re- 
ceived. But  in  the  midst  of  their  disorder  they  were  attacked 
by  Lysander,  who,  by  means  of  frequent  feints,  had  lulled 
them  into  a  false  security.  He  assailed  them  now  in  real 
earnest.  The  Athenians  were  taken  by  surprise.  Of  all  the 
commanders  Conon  alone  offered  any  resistance.  Three  thou- 
sand men  of  proved  courage  were  taken  prisoners  and  put  to 
death  without  exception,  while  no  less  than  seventy  ships  fell 
into  Lysander's  hands  (Oct.,  405  b.c). 

This  was  the  blow  through  which  Athens  was  to  fall.  There 
was  neither  fleet  nor  army  left.  Lysander  took  possession 
of  all  the  islands.  He  restored  the  inhabitants  of  yEgina  and 
Melos  to  tlieir  homes.  In  this  proceeding  he  enjoyed  the  aid 
of  Cyrus  the  younger,  who  at  that  time  held  supreme  com- 
mand over  Asia  Minor.  This  circumstance  explains  the  pre- 
eminence of  Lysander  in  Sparta  itself,  and  the  universal  anxi- 
ety which  was  felt  as  to  what  he  would  do.  His  fleet  and  a 
Lakedsemonian  army  appeared  simultaneously  before  tiie  city. 
The  Athenians  were  afraid  that  they  were  about  to  share  the 
fate  which  they  had  dealt  out  to  others,  and  tlieir  fears  were 
not  groundless.  The  question  was  actually  discussed  whether 
Athens  should  be  allowed  any  longer  to  exist.  The  Thebans 
were  for  expelling  the  inhabitants  of  Attica  and  converting 


FALL  OF  ATHENS.  273 

the  country  into  pasture  land  again ;  othei^,  on  the  contrary, 
declared,  with  more  justice,  that  it  would  be  folly  to  deprive 
Greece  of  one  of  her  eyes.  The  result,  however,  was  that 
Athens  owed  her  existence  to  the  mercy  of  Sparta.  The 
Loner  Walls  and  the  fortifications  of  the  Peirseus  were  levelled 
with  the  soil,  to  the  sound  of  Spartan  military  music  (April, 
404:  B.C.).  On  these  conditions  alone  was  Athens  suffered  to 
exist. 

One  can  scarcely  conceive  it  possible  that  Athens  should 
have  been  annihilated  by  Sparta  and  her  allies.  And  yet  how 
was  it  possible,  how  was  it  intended,  that  she  should  exist 
henceforward?  She  lost  all  her  foreign  possessions  and  all 
her  naval  force  with  the  exception  of  a  few  ships.  The  con- 
nection between  town  and  harbor  was  broken.  Her  free  con- 
stitution, the  source  of  all  her  opposi^^^ion  to  Sparta,  was  as 
little  likely  to  be  tolerated  here  as  in  the  other  cities  which 
Sparta  had  conquered.  At  all  times  it  had  been  regarded  as 
the  conqueror's  privilege  to  raise  his  friends  and  supporters 
to  power  in  the  places  over  which  he  had  won  control.  The 
return  of  Alkibiades,  with  all  its  results,  even  the  last  war  with 
Sparta  itself,  were  due  to  the  democracy.  It  was  plain,  there- 
fore, that  the  democracy  could  exist  no  longer.  The  Spartans 
offered  their  protection  to  the  party  which,  before  the  return 
of  Alkibiades,  had  wished  to  make  peace  and  alliance  with 
them.  The  restoration  of  the  Four  Hundred  was,  of  course, 
out  of  the  question,  and  so  large  a  number  of  rulers  was  un- 
necessary. It  was  enough  that  the  collective  authority  should 
come  into  the  hands  of  the  party  in  which  oligarchical  ten- 
dencies were  now  embodied.  The  means  adapted  in  order  to 
accomplish  this  aim  resembled  those  employed  on  the  former 
occasion. 

A  popular  assembly  was  still  regarded  as  representing,  in 
the  last  resort,  the  sovereignty  of  the  state.  In  a  popular  as- 
sembly, therefore,  a  committee  was  again  selected,  whose  busi- 
ness it  was  to  draw  up  a  constitution,  but  which  was  to  exer- 
cise supreme  authority  until  the  constitution  should  be  com- 
pleted. The  committee  consisted  of  thirty  persons,  whose 
memory  is  preserved  in  later  history  under  the  title  of  the 
Thirty  Tyrants.    In  reality  only  a  third  part  of  them  were 

18 


274:  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

elected.  Twenty  were  already  nominated  either  by  the  Lake- 
dsemonians  or  by  the  heads  of  the  oligarchical  faction.  All 
were,  however,  accepted  by  the  people.  But  if  their  origin 
must  therefore  be  regarded  as  constitutional,  their  subsequent 
proceedings  hardly  merit  the  title.  As  is  frequently  the  case 
with  constituent  bodies,  they  postponed  indefinitely  the  exe- 
cution of  their  task.  Meanwhile  they  kept  all  authority  in 
their  own  hands  and  nominated  to  all  offices  of  state.  The 
lead  among  them  was  taken  by  Critias,  a  clever  pupil  of  Soc- 
rates, but  a  man  who  regarded  the  possession  of  power  as  the 
highest  aim  of  a  statesman.  His  intention  was  to  purify  the 
state  before  giving  it  a  constitution.  The  purification  was 
effected  by  means  of  violence  and  bloodshed.  The  proscrip- 
tion fell  not  only  on  the  sycophants  of  the  democracy,  but  on 
good  and  honorable  men  who  were  suspected  of  lukewarmness 
towards  the  oligarchy.  Greed,  as  usual,  linked  itself  with 
political  animosity.  A  Lakedsemonian  body-guard  lent  its 
aid  to  the  execution  of  these  violent  measures.  Tlie  conse- 
quence was  that,  as  no  hope  of  safety  appeared,  large  numbers 
of  persons  left  the  city,  and  all  classes  of  those  who  remained 
behind  were  thrown  into  a  state  of  ferment.  Critias  merely 
remarked  that  such  was  the  inevitable  result  of  a  great  politi- 
cal revolution,  and  that  such  a  revolution  could  not  be  accom- 
plished, especially  in  a  city  so  populous  and  so  accustomed  to 
independence  as  Athens,  without  getting  rid  of  all  opponents. 
In  the  execution  of  this  policy  not  even  Alkibiades,  then  re- 
siding in  Persia,  was  forgotten. 

Alkibiades  had  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  satrap 
Pharnabazus,  and  it  was  considered  possible  that  he  might  win 
him  over  to  the  side  of  Athens.  It  is  very  probable  that  the 
opponents  of  the  oligarchy  at  Athens,  in  their  hopes  that  af- 
fairs in  general  would  take  a  turn,  cherished  this  expectation. 
Critias  declared  that,  so  long  as  Alkibiades  lived,  he  could 
never  finish  his  work  at  Athens.  Thereupon  the  Spartans, 
who  were  old  allies  of  Pharnabazus,  appear  to  have  prevailed 
on  the  satrap  to  compass  the  destruction  of  Alkibiades.  The 
latter  was  just  about  to  make  a  journey  to  Susa,  to  visit  the 
Great  King.  The  house  in  which  ho  was  passing  the  night 
was  surrounded  with  logs  and  brushwood,  which  were  then 


DEATH  OF  ALKIBIADES.  275 

set  on  fire.  In  the  conflagration  which  ensued  Alkibiades  per- 
ished. The  combination  of  Persian  and  Spartan  policy,  which 
he  had  himself  promoted,  at  last  destroyed  the  man  who  had 
held  in  his  hand  the  fate  of  Athens. 

The  complexities  of  human  action  and  passion,  or,  if  we 
prefer  the  word,  of  destiny,  are  displayed  in  a  manner  quite 
unique  in  the  career  of  Alkibiades.  Never  at  heart  a  citizen, 
but  following  the  dictates  of  personal  ambition,  he  lived  to 
see  the  moment  when  the  might  of  Athens  and  his  own  great- 
ness appeared  to  be  one  and  the  same.  But,  checked  in  his 
victorious  career,  and  obliged  to  defend  himself  against  politi- 
cal opponents,  he  turned  to  the  ancient  enemies  of  his  country. 
He  meant  only  to  destroy  those  opponents,  but  he  shattered 
the  foundations  of  Athenian  power.  This  power  he  hoped 
still  to  save,  by  the  aid  of  one  of  the  two  foes  he  had  himself 
aroused,  whom  he  now  alienated  from  the  other  and  brought 
over  to  his  country's  side.  But  at  the  very  moment  when  he 
again  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  state,  and  when  his  hopes 
seemed  near  completion,  this  alliance  broke  down.  The  two 
foes  joined  hands  anew  against  him  and  his  country,  and 
Athens  and  Alkibiades  fell  together. 

Among  the  oligarchs  who  now  divided  power  in  Athens 
there  appeared,  in  spite  of  outward  unity,  certain  differences 
of  opinion.  Many  of  those  who  had  brought  about  the  peace 
with  LakedoBmon,  and  had  helped  to  pass  the  resolutions  which 
established  the  dominion  of  the  Thirty,  began  at  last  to  recoil 
from  the  consequences  of  their  own  proceedings.  Such  was 
the  attitude  of  Theramenes.  He  made  light  of  the  destruction 
of  the  Long  Walls,  for  if,  said  he,  the  welfare  of  the  city  had 
once  demanded  their  erection,  their  destruction  was  equally 
indispensable.  On  the  other  hand,  he  objected  to  the  violent 
conduct  of  Critias,  on  the  ground  that  the  execution  of  inno- 
cent citizens  could  not  but  alarm  and  alienate  the  rest.  The 
Lakedaemonians,  he  said,  could  not  mean  to  deprive  Athens  of 
her  best  citizens  and  of  all  her  resources.  Had  that  been  their 
object  it  might  have  been  easily  attained  by  stopping  the 
supplies,  for  sickness,  following  in  the  track  of  famine,  would 
have  destroyed  the  whole  population.  Hence  it  appears  that 
Theramenes  considered  it  advisable  to  maintain  a  moderate 


276  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMOCRACY. 

system  of  government  under  the  protection  of  Lakedaemon. 
But  failure  is  sure  to  be  the  lot  of  those  politicians  who  fancy 
that  they  can  at  the  same  time  secure  the  existence  of  a  com- 
munity by  submission  to  the  enemy,  and  its  domestic  well- 
being  by  moderation  at  home — for  widespread  influence  be- 
longs to  independent  ideas  alone. 

Critias  had  made  up  his  mind  to  prevent  tlie  democracy 
that  had  caused  them  so  much  ill  from  ever  lifting  up  its  head 
again.  In  its  annihilation  he  beheld  the  most  important 
means  of  maintaining  undisturbed  the  general  political  situa- 
tion. In  his  attempt  to  bring  other  tendencies  into  play,  both 
in  the  intimate  counsels  of  the  Thirty  and  in  the  deliberative 
assembly,  Theramenes  appeared  not  only  as  a  deserter,  but  as 
a  traitor  to  the  cause.  Critias  himself  came  forward  as  his 
accuser,  struck  his  name  out  of  the  list  of  fully  qualified  citi- 
zens, who  could  only  be  brought  to  trial  in  a  regular  way,  and 
then  of  his  own  authority  pronounced  against  him  the  sen- 
tence of  death.  Theramenes  fled  to  the  altar  of  Hestia,  but 
was  torn  away  from  the  sanctuary.  He  atoned  by  an  heroic 
death  for  the  blot  which  his  vacillating  attitude  had  fixed  upon 
his  character.  In  the  civil  disturbances  at  Eome  his  memory 
was  revered  by  those  who,  like  Cicero,  for  example,  were  ani- 
mated by  feelings  of  a  similar  kind. 

The  men  of  this  epoch  awaken,  even  in  our  own  day,  sym- 
pathy and  antipathy,  just  because  the  political  and  religious 
contrasts  which  they  represent  are  such  as  constantly  reappear 
under  new  conditions  and  in  other  forms.  The  most  remarka- 
ble effort  of  the  Thirty  was  that  which  aimed  at  establishing 
a  constitution  by  an  act  of  absolute  power.  The  wliole  popu- 
lation, with  the  exception  of  three  thousand  pereons,  was  dis- 
armed. These  three  thousand  were  not  only  allowed  to  keep 
possession  of  their  weapons,  but  were  also  guaranteed  the 
privilege  of  full  citizenship,  a  privilege  which  had  been  re- 
fused to  Theramenes,  and  which  implied  security  from  vio- 
lence and  from  all  proceedings  but  those  of  a  legal  nature. 
Thus  constituted,  the  state  consisted  of  the  thirty  holders  of 
power,  the  legal  functionaries  whom  they  had  appointed,  and 
the  selected  citizens  who  retained  possession  of  their  arms. 
It  is  impossible  to  conceive  anything  more  unlike  the  earlier 


THE  THIRTY  TYRANTS.  277 

constitution,  in  which  the  whole  community  was  endowed 
with  equal  rights,  while  the  government  was  carried  on  by 
deliberative  bodies  proceeding  from  that  community,  and  by 
oflScers  chosen  by  lot  or  elected  by  the  people. 

It  was  not,  however,  in  the  nature  of  things  that  so  vigorous 
a  state  as  Athens  should  permanently  submit  to  a  rule  of  vio- 
lence like  this.  It  often  happens  that  in  great  political  crises 
there  come  to  light  elements  of  sufficient  strength  to  resist 
the  extremity  of  the  evil  even  when  it  appears  overwhelming. 
In  this  case  everything  turned  upon  the  fact  that  Greece  in 
general  found  the  weight  of  Spartan  supremacy  intolerable. 
The  satrap  of  Sardis  had  sought  in  the  interests  of  Persia  to 
maintain  a  balance  of  power  between  Athens  and  Sparta. 
The  Greeks,  too,  felt  the  need  of  some  counterpoise  to  Sparta, 
which  made  use  of  its  preponderance  for  the  most  selfish  ends. 
It  was  in  Thebes,  hitherto  the  implacable  foe  of  Athens,  that 
this  revulsion  of  feeling  was  first  apparent.  The  conduct  of 
the  Thebans  was  not  in  reality  so  inconsistent  as  it  may  at  fii*st 
sight  appear.  They  had  begun  by  proposing  the  complete 
annihilation  of  the  Athenian  state,  which  would  have  given 
them  the  control  of  Attica.  Now  that  the  existence  of  Athens 
was  to  be  maintained,  under  a  constitution  agreeable  to  Spartan 
ideas,  they  exclaimed  loudly  against  this  turn  of  affairs,  for 
thereby  Sparta  gained  a  position  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  Thebes  which  would  be  fatal  to  their  independence. 
Lysander  was  unwilling  that  the  political  system  lately  set  up 
at  Athens  should  be  exposed  to  attack  from  exiles.  He  there- 
fore issued  a  decree  that  exiles  should  not  be  received  into 
any  city  that  called  itself  the  ally  of  Sparta.  The  purport  of 
this  measure  was  plain  to  all.  Thebes  refused  to  obey  the 
command.  The  democratic  exiles  from  Athens  found  shelter 
and  protection  in  oligarchical  Thebes.  Differences  of  consti- 
tution and  distinction  of  race  alike  gave  way  before  higher 
political  interests,  and  when  the  exiles,  under  the  leadership 
of  Thrasybulus,  a  man  who  had  highly  distinguished  himself 
towards  the  end  of  the  conflict  with  Lakedaemon,  made  as  if 
they  would  invade  Attica,  the  Thebans  promised  to  connive 
at  the  attempt. 

Thrasybulus  was  thus  enabled  to  march  into  Attica  with 


278  THE  ATHENIAN  DEMCXIRACY. 

a  numerous  band  of  exiles,  and  was  joyfully  received  in  the 
Peiraeus,  the  population  of  which  was  of  the  same  mind.  The 
oligarchical  party  in  the  city  attempted  to  put  down  the  re- 
volt. Fortunately  for  the  democrats,  their  chief  opponent, 
Critias,  lost  liis  life  in  the  attempt.  This  success  did  not, 
however,  give  them  the  command  of  the  city,  and  their  posi- 
tion became  critical  when  Pausanias,  the  Spartan  king,  arrived 
with  an  army  on  the  scene  and  at  once  gained  a  decisive  ad- 
vantage over  them.  It  now  depended  entirely  on  Pausanias 
under  what  constitution  Athens  should  continue  to  exist.  At 
this  juncture  the  Spartans  themselves  perceived  the  necessity 
of  keeping  an  autonomous  Athens  at  their  side.  The  Athe- 
nian oligarchy  conferred  upon  Lysander,  to  whom  it  owed  its 
foundation  and  its  permanence,  a  preponderating  influence, 
not  only  in  Athens,  but  in  Sparta  as  well;  and  Pausanias 
feared  that  the  maintenance  of  this  oligarchy  might  recoil 
upon  himself.  The  hereditary  champion  of  the  oligarchical 
system  in  Sparta  and  in  Greece  manifested  an  inclination  fa- 
vorable to  democracy  in  Athens.  Under  these  circumstances 
an  understanding  was  come  to,  in  consequence  of  which 
Thrasybulus  and  his  comrades  entered  the  city  (Sept.,  403 
B.C.).  In  the  Acropolis  itself  he  passed  a  resolution  to  re- 
store the  ancient  constitution  of  Athens,  together  with  the 
Solonian  and  even  the  Draconian  laws.  These  laws  were 
modified  to  some  extent,  but  the  changes  were  of  slight  im- 
portance. The  revolution  consisted  mainly  in  this,  that  an 
elective  council  was  again  substituted  for  tliat  which  had  been 
appointed  by  a  body  of  irresponsible  rulers. 

The  Athenian  system  combined  democratic  and  conserva- 
tive tendencies.  The  democracy  was  hallowed  by  the  most 
ancient  national  traditions.  Its  restoration  was  in  accordance 
with  history  as  well  as  with  the  sympathies  of  the  masses. 
Thrasybulus  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  seize  the  exact 
moment  when  this  restoration  was  possible.  But  to  him  and 
his  companions  belongs  the  imperishable  glory  of  having 
commenced  their  undertaking  with  skill  and  courage  in  spite 
of  the  most  unfavorable  conditions.  Thrasybulus  now  repre- 
sented the  autonomy  of  Athens.  The  Spartan  king  liad  only 
the  merit  of  having  allowed  its  recovery.    The  Thirty,  who 


RESTORATION  OF  THE  DEMOCRACY.  279 

had  taken  up  their  quarters  in  Eleusis,  no  longer  supported 
by  Sparta,  and  deserted  by  their  own  friends,  gave  way  before 
the  overwhelming  force  of  their  opponents.  A  general  am- 
nesty, w^iich  aimed  at  the  reconciliation  of  oligarchs  and 
democrats,  put  an  end  to  the  universal  confusion.  It  is  the 
first  amnesty  recorded  in  history. 

Athens  was  no  longer  the  great  naval  power  of  old,  pos- 
sessed of  far-reaching  authority,  and  striving  for  universal 
empire  by  sea  and  land.  In  the  attempt  to  become  the  polit- 
ical capital  of  Ilellas  she  had  failed,  but  the  intellectual  de- 
velopment which  had  accompanied  that  attempt  was  a  gain 
which  no  misfortune  could  destroy.  Athens  had  thereby  be- 
come the  metropolis  of  intellectual  culture  for  the  whole 
human  race.  Observed  from  the  point  of  view  of  universal 
history,  many  a  movement,  whose  influence  is  not  universally 
decisive,  may,  and  indeed  must,  be  passed  over.  But  that 
culture  which  has  become  the  common  property  of  other 
nations  and  succeeding  centuries  will  only  receive  the  closer 
attention. 


Chaptee  YIII. 

ANTAGONISM  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS  IN 
GREEK  LITERATURE. 

The  political  life,  whose  main  features  we  have  now  ex- 
amined, was  accompanied  by  an  intellectual  development 
which  manifested  itself  in  literature.  These  two  aspects  of 
national  life  were  closely  connected,  but  not  identical.  The 
creations  of  the  intellect,  though  subject  in  their  origin  to 
the  influence  of  general  political  conditions,  are  nevertheless 
independent  in  tlieir  growth.  Greek  literature,  from  the  end 
of  the  sixth  to  the  second  half  of  the  fourth  century,  presents 
an  intellectual  phenomenon  of  the  utmost  importance  to  man- 
kind. The  poets  and  thinkers  of  Greece  attempted  to  solve 
the  hardest  questions  connected  with  the  relations  of  things 
divine  and  human  ;  and  between  them  all,  while  each  inquirer 
made  the  attempt  in  his  own  way,  an  unbroken  connection 
may  be  traced.  Their  productions,  taken  together,  are  of  in- 
estimable value  to  mankind,  not  so  much  as  a  body  of  teach- 
ing and  dogma,  but  as  the  expression  of  those  great  thoughts 
whence  springs  the  inner  life  of  the  intellectual  world.  It  will 
not,  I  tiTist,  appear  out  of  place  if  I  introduce  into  the  histor- 
ical narrative  some  remarks  on  this  intellectual  development. 

1.  The  Older  Philosophers  in  the  Colonies,  especially  in 
those  of  the  West. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  contact  with  Oriental  concep- 
tions had  no  effect  upon  the  Grecian  world.  But  there  is  no 
historical  proof  that  the  mythological  and  religious  systems 
of  the  East  had  penetrated  to  Greece  and  come  to  light  again 
in  the  most  ancient  dicta  of  Greek  philosopliy.  What  influ- 
enced the  Greek  intellect  was  not  Oriental  mytliology,  of  which 


THE  IONIAN  PniLOSOPHERS.  281 

there  was  enough  ah*eady  in  Greece,  but  Oriental  science.  If 
we  consider  the  Greek  cosmogony  in  its  entirety,  as  conceived 
and  expounded  by  Hesiod,  we  shall  see  that  it  is  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  the  astronomy  of  the  Babylonians.  This 
astronomy,  passing  through  the  medium  of  the  Phoenicians, 
made  its  way  at  length  to  Greece.  The  Ionian  colonies  were 
naturally  the  first  affected. 

Above  the  darkness  of  the  ages  rises  the  figure  of  Thales 
of  Miletus,  a  man  of  ancient  Phoenician  descent,  who  stands 
at  the  head  of  all  Greek  philosophers.  He  is  famous  for  hav- 
ing foretold  an  eclipse  of  the  sun,  and  for  having  invented  a 
theory  of  the  origin  of  things,  which  deduced  everything 
from  one  primary  substance  —  namely,  water.  These  two 
points  are  closely  connected.  The  cosmogony  of  the  Greeks 
was  scattered  to  the  winds  by  the  first  contact  with  the  science 
of  astronomy,  and  this  gave  rise  to  the  attempt  to  find  a  real- 
istic basis  for  the  material  world  in  which  we  live.  Thus 
philosophy  soon  took  up  an  attitude  hostile  to  mythology. 
Anaximander  declared  the  countless  orbs  which  he  perceived 
in  the  sky  to  be  the  heavenly  gods,  but  distinguished  from 
these  again  an  eternal  and  immutable  basis  or  ground,  of 
things,  which  was  itself  divine.*  Xenophanes,  who  at  the 
time  of  the  Median  invasion  left  Ionia,  and  after  many  wan- 
derings found  a  home  in  the  Phoksean  colony  of  Elea,  placed 
himself  in  direct  opposition  to  the  orthodox  religion.  Among 
other  things  Xenophanes  rejected  the  notion  of  a  Golden 
Age,  and  held,  on  the  contrary,  that  man  had  improved  his 
lot  in  the  course  of  time.  He  declared  outright  his  belief 
that  the  gods  derived  their  origin  from  men,  not  men  from 
the  gods,  so  human  was  the  character  attributed  to  the  latter. 
He  regarded  the  rainbow  as  nothing  but  a  cloud,  on  which 

*  Coinp.  Brandis, "  Hanclbuch  der  griechiscb-roraischen  Philosophie,"  i. 
p.  138.  Men,  according  to  Anaxiinander's  theory  of  their  origin,  first  lived 
in  water  like  fishes,  because  they  could  not  have  kept  themselves  alive 
on  dry  land  on  account  of  their  helplessness  during  the  first  ages  of 
their  existence;  afterwards,  when  they  took  to  dry  land,  they  did  not 
become  capable  of  life  till  they  had  burst  the  fishes'  skins  in  which  they 
were  clothed.  This  theory  is  doubtless  connected  with  the  fish-gods  of 
the  Phoenicians. 


282  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

different  colors  play.  These  ideas,  directly  opposed  as  they 
were  to  a  belief  in  the  gods,  inspired  the  men  of  Elea,  the  pu- 
pils of  Xenophanes,  in  the  making  of  their  laws.  Cosmogony, 
religion,  and  politics  were  as  yet  one  and  tlie  same.  About 
the  same  time  this  connection  manifested  itself  in  another 
place  on  a  greater  scale  and  with  more  splendor  than  before. 

Pythagoras  is  a  sort  of  heroic  figure  in  the  history  of  an- 
cient philosophy.  The  reverence  which  he  inspired  became 
poetical,  and  shrouded  his  real  character  in  obscurity.  His 
birthplace,  Samos,  was  in  his  day  a  central  point  of  inter- 
national relations,  and  was  in  close  political  connection  with 
Egypt.  Those  journeys  to  distant  regions  which  tradition 
attributes  to  Pythagoras  can  hardly  have  been  necessary. 
Without  leaving  Samos  he  could  acquaint  himself  by  personal 
observation  with  the  national  characteristics  of  the  East,  and 
gain  instruction  in  Eastern  modes  of  thought.  But  Samos, 
where  the  inhabitants  on  one  occasion  threatened  to  persecute 
a  philosopher  because  he  overthrew  an  altar  sacred  to  the 
Universe,  was  no  place  for  Pythagoras.  He  betook  himself  to 
the  Dorian  colonies  in  Southern  Italy,  and  collected  in  Crotona 
a  school  of  pupils,  who  revered  him  as  an  infallible  master. 
It  is  quite  possible  that  Oriental  traditions  may  have  influ- 
enced his  teaching,  but  there  is  nothing  Eastern  in  tlie  essen- 
tial portion  of  the  Pythagorean  doctrine.  Tliis  doctrine  was 
based  upon  a  perception  of  the  invariable  mathematical  laws 
which  govern  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  In  these 
motions  numerical  relations  appeared  of  such  importance  that 
the  philosopher,  confusing  form  with  substance,  fancied  he 
recognized  in  number  a  divine  creative  force  which  ruled  all 
things  from  the  beginning.  Number,  whose  importance 
was  indubitably  manifest  in  music,  appeared  in  like  manner 
to  be  the  basis  of  the  universal  harmony  of  things.  It  was 
but  a  short  step  further  to  speak  of  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

In  views  like  these  there  was  no  room  for  that  reverence 
for  the  gods  which  was  in  vogue  among  the  Greeks.  The 
most  ancient  authorities  agree  in  saying  that  Pythagoras  set 
forth,  in  opposition  to  the  public  religion,  a  secret  religion  of 
his  own,  in  which  his  views  of  nature,  veiled  in  mysterious 
and  solemn  phrases,  contradicted  all  that  was  ordinarily  re- 


PYTHAGORAS  AND  EMPEDOCLES.  283 

garded  as  truth.  I  shall  not  exaggerate  the  importance  of 
the  Pythagorean  league  if  I  see  in  it  an  institution  which  suc- 
cessfully opposed  the  advance  of  Phcenician  superstition,  then 
issuing  from  Carthago  to  overflow  the  Western  world,  and 
which  even  exerted  an  influence  on  the  natural  religion  of 
the  Western  nations.  It  is  perhaps  an  exaggeration  of  this 
influence  when  it  is  maintained  that  the  teaching  of  the 
Druids  in  Gaul  shows  traces  of  Pythagorean  doctrine.  In 
the  colonies  its  aristocratic  proclivities  prepared  the  way  for 
its  downfall. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  that  is,  in 
Sicily,  there  appeared  a  thinker  of  original  power,  whose 
tendencies  differed  widely  from  those  of  Pythagoras.  Of  all 
the  products  of  Sicily  none,  says  an  ancient  poet,  was  so  ad- 
mirable, none  so  holy,  as  Empedocles  of  Agrigentum.  Agri- 
gentum  was  at  this  time  a  city  of  exceptional  splendor.  Its 
flourishing  condition  was  due  to  the  trade  with  Carthage, 
which  imported  thence  the  productions  of  the  fertile  Sicilian 
soil.  The  city,  it  is  said,  contained  a  population,  including 
foreigners,  of  two  hundred  thousand  inhabitants.  It  was  in 
this  place  that  Empedocles,  who  was  a  member  of  one  of  the 
richest  and  noblest  families  in  the  state,  struck  out  a  course 
for  himself  both  in  religion  and  politics.  He  overthrew 
the  aristocratic  government  of  the  Thousand,  which  at  that 
time  ruled  the  city.  At  the  very  doors  of  the  temple  which 
its  governors  had  built  in  honor  of  Olympian  Zeus,  of 
Heracles,  and  other  deities,  and  whose  ruins  form,  perhaps, 
the  best  extant  example  of  early  Doric  architecture,  he  un- 
folded a  doctrine  which  rejected  all  the  gods  and  attacked 
their  worship  with  hostility  and  contempt.  His  mind  applied 
itself  to  nature  alone,  the  phenomena  of  which,  as  visible  not 
far  off  in  ^tna,  were  likely  to  attract  special  study  and  at- 
tention. Into  the  doctrine  of  a  primary  substance,  which 
came  to  Sicily  from  Ionia,  he  introduced  some  consistency 
through  the  notion  of  four  elements,  which  he  was  the  first 
to  distinguish.  This  fundamental  conception,  firmly  main- 
tained both  in  ancient  and  modern  times,  held  its  ground 
until  it  was  overthrown  by  the  discoveries  of  our  own  day. 
Among  these  elements  he  gave  fire,  as  a  primary  force,  the 


284  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

most  important  place.  It  was  in  the  crater  of  JEtna,  we  are 
told,  that  he  himself  met  with  his  death.  Some  fragments 
of  his  works  are  still  extant,  which  bear  witness  to  the  depth 
and  boldness  of  his  intellect  and  still  afford  food  for  thought.* 
They  are  less  closely  connected  with  Pythagoras  than  with 
the  notions  about  Eternal  Being,  which  had  been  brought  into 
prominence  by  the  followers  of  Xenophanes  in  Elea. 

This  triad  of  ancient  seats  of  philosophy,  Crotona,  Elea, 
and  Agrigentum,  is  very  remarkable.  In  the  Graeco-Sicilian 
colonies  those  ideas  were  developed  w^hich  owed  their  origin 
to  the  contact  of  Greek  and  Eastern  minds  in  Ionia.  They 
form  the  foundation  of  all  the  philosophy  of  the  human  race. 
But  at  that  time,  immediately  before  the  Persian  wars  or 
during  their  continuance,  conceptions  of  this  kind  could  not 
force  their  way  into  the  heart  of  Hellas.  In  Greece  itself 
reverence  for  the  gods  firmly  held  its  ground,  and  was 
strengthened  by  the  nature  of  the  struggle  with  Persia,  a 
struggle  deeply  tinged  throughout  its  whole  course  by  relig- 
ious feeling.  The  victories  of  the  Greeks  w^ere  at  the  same 
time  the  victories  of  their  gods.  But  mere  dull  credulity  was 
not  natural  to  the  Greek  nation.  The  echo  of  those  philo- 
sophical ideas  which  opposed  the  traditional  faith  could  not 
die  away  without  producing  some  effect.  Even  if  they  were 
not  accepted,  the  thoughtful  mind  could  not  fail  to  see  the 
contradiction  between  the  cosmogony  of  Ilesiod  and  the  Idea 
of  the  Divine.  The  religious  conceptions  of  the  day,  based 
on  the  ancient  Greek  view,  which  was  still  on  the  whole 
maintained,  may  best  be  traced  in  the  writings  of  the  poets. 
Poetry  had  helped  to  found  the  mythological  system,  and  its 
influence  continued  to  be  felt  throughout  the  conflicts  by  which 
that  system  was  gradually  modified. 

2.  Pindar, 
The  first  incentive  to  the  exercise  of  the  poetic  art  was 


•  Em))edocle8  was  of  opinion  that  it  was  not  till  after  various  unsuc- 
cessful attempts  that  creatures  capable  of  life  were  produced;  comp. 
Zeller,  "Ueber  die  griechischen  Vorgfinger  Darwin's,"  Abhandl.  der 
Kdnigl.  AhademU  der  Wissenseh.  eu  Berlin,  1878,  p.  115. 


PINDAR.  285 

given  by  the  gymnastic  games.  Prizes  were  contested  for  in 
these  games,  in  whicli  worship  was  paid  to  the  gods,  and  all 
the  powers  of  the  body,  as  well  as  the  resources  which  wealth 
and  worldly  position  could  supply,  were  exerted  to  the  utmost. 
The  Epinikia,  or  odes  in  praise  of  the  victors,  performed  a 
double  task :  they  added  splendor  to  the  act  of  worship  and 
ennobled  the  distinguished  men  who  carried  off  the  prize.  A 
happy  fate  has  preserved  these  odes  of  victory  to  our  own 
day.  In  them  we  find  expressed  a  condition  of  mind  which 
can  devote  itself  to  the  highest  ideas  without  renouncing  the 
traditional  worship  of  the  gods.  The  chief  representative  of 
this  phase  of  the  Greek  intellect  is  Pindar.  It  is  not  to  be 
denied  that  the  systems  of  Pythagoras  and  Thales  were 
known  to  Pindar,  or  that  he  appropriated  some  part  of  their 
teaching.  But  we  need  not  go  further  into  this  question. 
Our  object  is  to  discover  his  general  position. 

Early  mythology,  which  dealt  with  the  origin  of  the  uni- 
verse, had  been  subjected  to  anthropomorphic  tendencies. 
Pindar  intentionally  combats  the  unworthy  conception  which 
these  tendencies  had  introduced  into  the  Idea  of  divine 
nature.  He  refuses  to  believe  that  the  gods  were  gluttonous, 
as  the  story  of  Tantalus  and  Pelops  would  imply.  He  in- 
vents for  himself  another  method  for  the  rescue  of  Pelops, 
more  in  accordance  with  the  Greek  temperament.  The 
punishment  of  Tantalus  he  deduces  from  his  overweening 
pride.  For  the  same  reason  he  shrinks  from  narrating  the 
victories  of  Heracles  over  the  gods,  while  he  cannot  value 
too  highly  his  other  triumphs.  Only  that  which  is  seemly 
must  be  told  of  the  gods.  To  slight  the  gods  appears  to 
Pindar  a  kind  of  madness. 

Pindar  does  his  best  in  all  cases  to  bring  into  prominence 
the  religious  and  moral  elements  in  the  legends  with  which  he 
deals,  as,  for  instance,  the  modesty  and  self-restraint  displayed 
by  Peleus  out  of  respect  for  Zeus  Xenius,  or  the  pride  of 
Ixion,  which  brought  down  upon  him  the  wrath  of  the  gods. 
To  the  gods  all  things  are  subject.  In  accordance  with  this 
view  the  ancient  story  of  the  struggle  between  the  gods  and 
the  Titans  is  toned  down.  Typhoeus,  the  symbol  of  the  law- 
less forces  of  nature,  as  he  is  represented  even  in  Pindar,  is 


1 


» 


286  PHILOSOPHY  AND   LITERATURE. 

made  to  appear  full  of  pride  and  violence,  hostile  alike  to  the 
gods  and  to  the  Muses.  The  gods,  in  fact,  are  unapproachable 
and  terrible,  but  their  might  rests  on  moral  foundations,  an- 
swering to  the  ideals  of  human  existence,  and  of  these  ideals 
Pindar  has  a  lofty  conception. 

One  of  his  fundamental  thoughts  is  that  everything  is  due 
to  inborn  virtue  and  to  natural  gifts.  We  live  not  all  for 
the  same  end.  The  goddess  of  birth  and  the  goddess  of  fate, 
Eileithuia  and  Moira  the  inscrutable,  are  united  in  Pindar's 
mind.  The  virtue  conferred  on  man  by  fate  is  in  time  per- 
fected as  fate  decrees.  He  who  knows  only  what  he  has 
learned  marches  with  no  certain  foot  towards  his  goal ;  he 
pursues  the  most  diverse  aims  and  brings  nothing  to  com- 
pletion. *'  Become  that  which  thou  art,"  says  Pindar,  and 
nobler  counsel  has  never  been  given ;  for,  indeed,  what  can  a 
man  become  but  that  for  which  his  inborn  nature  intends 
him  ? 

But  without  toil  comes  no  good-fortune;  labor  tries  the 
man,  and  nothing  is  without  the  gods.  From  them  comes 
the  ability  to  bring  a  thing  to  completion  ;  from  them  come 
boldness,  wisdom,  eloquence.  Pindar  demands  of  all  men 
modesty  and  zeal.  Jason  appears  to  be  a  model  of  all  that 
he  admires  in  man  ;  Jason,  w^ho  has  a  rightful  claim,  but  urges 
it  with  noble  gentleness  and  youthful  modesty ;  Jason,  who 
shrinks  not  from  the  labor  laid  upon  him  by  the  unrightful 
possessor  of  the  authority  that  is  his  own,  and  who  is  sup- 
ported by  the  gods,  by  Hera  and  Poseidon,  even  by  Aphrodite, 
and,  above  all,  by  Zeus.  The  heroes  in  the  Argo  take  courage 
when  they  perceive  the  signs  of  Zeus  that  promise  them  suc- 
cess. In  this  world,  in  which  native  vigor  and  laborious  toil 
are  favored  by  Heaven,  glory  finds  its  proper  place.  Talent, 
virtue,  glory,  are  all  really  one,  or,  at  any  rate,  are  found  to- 
gether. Glory  is  the  remedy  for  toil.  Virtue  grows,  when 
watered  by  the  words  of  the  wise,  as  the  tree  by  dew.  Song, 
which  issues  from  the  depths  of  the  soul  with  the  favor  of 
the  Graces,  is  the  natural  accompaniment  of  noble  deeds.  If 
these  remain  unsung  they  perish  after  death.  Thus  the  poet 
appears  in  the  midst  of  this  world  as  part  and  parcel  of  it,  in- 
separable from  the  rest.     Pindar  praises  the  victors  in  the 


PINDAR  287 

games,  their  families,  their  fatherland,  and  the  games  them- 
selves. He  sees  all  things  in  their  widest  mythical,  poetical, 
and  national  connection.  He  connects  Kyrene  and  Rhodes, 
Syracuse,  Agrigentum,  and  the  Epizephyrian  Locri  with  the 
central  point  of  the  national  religion,  the  Omphalus  at  Del- 
phi.* Men  like  him  did  much  to  keep  up  the  consciousness 
of  Greek  nationality. 

Pindar  can  value  at  their  proper  worth  good-fortune  and 
well-being,  but  he  always  demands  that  they  shall  be  com- 
bined with  some  virtue  or  other,  and  his  songs  of  praise  are 
interspersed  with  warnings.  In  the  same  light  he  regards 
the  future  beyond  the  grave.  He  differs  widely  from  all  his 
predecessors  in  representing  evil  deeds  as  punished  by  a  "  re- 
morseless doom,"  while  the  good,  honored  by  the  gods  to 
whom  they  have  kept  their  word,  behold  the  same  sun  night 
and  day,  and  brighten  with  tales  and  memories  their  mutual 
converse.  The  future  life  which  Pindar  imagines  is,  like  his 
conception  of  the  present,  an  endless  festival  after  the  games. 
Elsewhere  he  makes  the  spirits  of  the  wicked  wander  to  and 
fro  between  earth  and  heaven,  while  he  places  the  spirits  of 
the  just  in  heaven  itself,  "  praising  the  mighty  dead."f 

When  we  turn  our  gaze  upon  the  material  conditions  which 
are  brought  to  light  in  the  poetry  of  Pindar,  the  old  aristo- 
cratic world  of  the  Greeks  comes  before  our  eyes  in  all  its 
splendor.ij:  On  all  sides  are  to  be  seen  wealthy  and  distin- 
guished families  rich  enough  to  keep  a  four-horsed  chariot.  It 
adds  to  the  fame  of  the  family  that  the  colts  were  broken  un- 
der their  own  hands.  The  masters  themselves  put  on  them 
the  shining  harness ;  then  they  call  upon  Poseidon,  and  spur 


* "  ofi^aXog  dicebatur  lapis  albus  in  adyto  templi  in  quo  duse  aquilse 
aureae."  They  showed  the  presence  of  Zeus,  who  presided  over  the  oracle. 
On  the  myth  of  the  meeting  of  the  two  eagles  "  a  finibus  terraj "  comp. 
Dissen  on  "  Pyth."  iv.  §  ii.  219. 

t  MoLKapa  ixeyav  deiSovT  tv  vfivoig.  Threni  iii.  in  Bockh  (Bergk,  "  Poetee 
Lyrici  Graeci,"  p.  291,  fragm.  97). 

J  Pindar  indicates  very  unreservedly  the  different  constitutions,  the 
tyrannis,  the  rule  of  the  unbridled  people  (\di3pog  (TTparog),  the  rule  of  the 
•wise.  In  his  opinion  fairness  and  wisdom  are  always  the  best  ("Pyth." 
iii.). 


288  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

their  horses  to  their  highest  speed.  Pindar  shows  us  even 
the  domestic  life  of  those  he  celebrates.  In  him,  as  in  Ho- 
mer, we  see  the  walls  surrounding  the  outer  court ;  within  it 
stands  the  building  itself,  its  roof  supported  by  pillars ;  and 
last  of  all  the  "  oikos,"  the  human  dwelling,  in  which  the  feast 
is  spread  when  the  games  are  done. 

AH  these  families,  great  and  small,  trace  their  origin  to  the 
gods.  The  Euneidse  in  Athens,  a  family  whose  calling  it  was 
to  attend  sacred  processions  as  dancers  and  lute-players,  traced 
their  descent  from  Euneus,  the  son  of  Jason.  The  lamidse,  a 
family  endowed  with  prophetic  gifts,  were  descended  from 
Apollo :  to  this  family  belonged  Tisamenus,  the  soothsayer  of 
the  Spartans.*  On  Mount  Pelion  dwelt  the  Cheironidse,  a 
race  who  devoted  themselves  to  the  science  of  medicine  and 
traced  their  origin  to  the  Cheiron  of  Homer.  We  see  the 
physicians  handing  soothing  potions  to  the  sick,  or  binding 
up  the  wounded  limbs  with  medicinal  herbs,  and  uttering 
meanwhile  a  kind  of  charm — a  class  not  unwilling  to  make 
profit  of  their  skill. 

Everything  in  Pindar  has  a  dignity  and  character  of  its 
own.  The  clan  of  the  Aleuadse,  at  whose  head  stand  three 
brothers,  rules  the  republic  of  Thessaly.  In  the  towns  hered- 
itary government  is  to  be  seen,  and  affairs  are  conducted 
wisely  by  good  men.  The  ode  to  Thrasydseus  of  Thebes  is 
written  with  the  intention  of  warning  him  to  shrink  from  any 
attempt  to  set  up  a  tyranny. 

The  poet,  though  a  native  of  Thebes,  shows  especial  prefer- 
ence for  Jigina.  Asopus,  a  river  of  Boeotia,  was  regarded  as 
father  of  the  two  sisters  -^gina  and  Thebe,  while  between 
Heracles,  whose  shrine  was  in  the  house  of  Amphitryon  at 
Thebes,  and  the  EakidcQ  in  ^gina  is  said  to  have  existed  of 
old  a  brotherhood  of  arms.  The  alliance  between  Thebes 
and  the  warlike  -^gina  had  in  reality  an  origin  and  reason  of 
quite  another  kind,  but  Pindar's  gaze  is  always  directed  upon 
those  ties  which  unite  mankind  with  the  heroes  and  the  gods. 
In  Pindar,  too,  everything  has  its  peculiar  virtue:  -^gina,  for 

♦  "Olympin;  in  am  Jovis  maxima  oraculipraesides  yatcsquo  hercditario 
jure  fuerunt."— Backh,  ii.  2,  p.  152. 


iESCHYLUS.  289 

example,  is  famed  for  having  produced  the  champions  most 
distinguished  in  war,  and  for  being,  at  the  same  time,  a  seat 
of  righteousness. 

At  tlie  time  of  the  battle  of  Marathon  Pindar  was  over 
thirty  years  old ;  at  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Salamis  he  was 
over  forty.  He  had  taken  up  his  position  while  still  very 
young,  and  had  formed  himself  before  the  outbreak  of  the 
war  with  Persia,  in  which,  as  a  Theban,  he  took  no  part.  Ho 
lays  before  us  the  broad  characteristics  of  Greek  society,  as 
that  society  was  constituted  before  the  conclusion  of  the  Per- 
sian wars. 

3.  j^schylus. 

^schylus  was  a  contemporary  of  Pindar,  probably  a  few 
years  older  than  the  latter,  but  he  was  an  Athenian.  In  poli- 
tics he  was  no  democrat,  but  rather  an  i*ristocrat  by  birtli,  for 
he  came  of  a  noble  family  in  Eleusis.  In  the  war,  however, 
men  of  all  parties  in  Attica  fouglit  side  by  side.  yEschylus 
took  his  share  in  the  battles  of  Marathon,  Salamis,  and  Pla- 
taea,  and  could  show  honorable  scars  from  the  wounds  which 
lie  had  received.  His  works  belong  entirely  to  the  new  pe- 
riod, which  begins  after  the  Persian  wars.  They  present  to 
us  all  the  internal  ferment  of  the  Greek  mind.  From  the 
stage  of  the  newly  created  tlieatre,  another  offspring  of  relig- 
ious festivals,  ^schylus  draws  the  masses  into  the  thick  of 
intellectual  strife.  He  has  no  particle  of  the  gentle  and  con- 
ciliatory spirit  that  distinguishes  Pindar. 

In  the  "  Prometheus  Bound,"  one  of  the  boldest  and  most 
original  dramas  that  have  ever  been  written,  ^schylus  ap- 
proaches the  great  questions  about  the  world  and  the  gods 
from  the  point  of  view  offered  by  the  myth  of  the  Titans. 
To  the  primeval  deities  and  their  creations,  which  have  been 
conquered  and  all  but  annihilated  by  Zeus,  belongs  man.  He, 
too,  is  destined  to  annihilation,  or,  at  any  rate,  would  have 
been  condemned  to  a  miserable  and  bestial  existence  in  sun- 
less dens,  had  not  his  part  been  taken  by  one  of  the  Titans, 
who  had  allied  himself  with  Zeus  against  the  rest.  Prome- 
theus brings  men  fire,  and  through  fire  they  arrive  at  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  arts.  He  teaches  them  to  distinguish  the  seasons 
of  the  year,  and  to  subdue  the  wild  beasts  to  their  service ;  he 

19 


290  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

shows  them  how  to  build  houses  and  to  sail  the  sea;  he 
strengthens  and  sharpens  their  understanding.  In  Prome- 
theus, at  once  Titan  and  god,  is  to  be  seen  a  personification  of 
the  human  intellect,  which  in  its  origin  is  independent  of  Zeus 
and  the  twelve  greater  gods.  The  Greek  deities  had  come 
victorious  out  of  the  struggle  with  the  Persian,  ^schylus 
acknowledged  their  dominion,  but  scarcely  their  omnipotence, 
still  less  the  justice  of  such  omnipotence.  The  piece  that  we 
are  examining  breathes  throughout  a  lofty  solitude,  where  el- 
ements and  ideas  alone  come  into  conflict.  Therein  appears 
the  spirit  of  man,  with  its  inherent  vigor,  as  one  of  the  Titans, 
who,  unlike  the  rest  of  his  fellows,  has  not  been  vanquished 
by  the  gods.  The  dominion  of  the  victorious  deities,  who 
have  only  baffled  the  forces  of  nature  by  the  exercise  of  pow- 
ers resembling  those  of  man,  is  new  and  therefore  violent. 
Henceforward  no  one  is  free  excepting  Zeus.  lie  pronounces 
judgment;  he  is  the  absolute  ruler,  responsible  to  none.  His 
one  opponent  he  subjects  to  a  chastisement  of  pain,  which  is 
renew^ed  day  by  day.  He  would  kill  him  if  he  had  the  power ; 
but  Prometheus  knows  that  he  has  forces  on  his  side  which 
lie  beyond  the  tyranny  of  the  present.  Kather  than  submit 
he  will  suffer,  and  wait  till  this  tyranny  has  run  its  course. 
We  leave  him  in  the  midst  of  an  earthquake,  in  which  sea 
and  sky  are  mingled  together,  calling  once  more  the  primeval 
powers  to  witness  the  injustice  which  he  has  to  bear. 

Here,  at  the  very  threshold  of  dramatic  poetry,  we  find  the 
spirit  of  man  pictured  in  outlines  whoso  grandeur  has  never 
been  surpassed — that  ambitious,  defiant  spirit  of  invincible 
courage  which  stands  upon  its  rights,  which  never  gives  way, 
which  behind  every  outward  form  of  things  foresees  the  ad- 
vent of  another.  We  can  never  cease  to  regret  that  the  sec- 
ond part  of  the  trilogy,  the  "  Prometheus  Unbound,"  is  not 
extant.  In  this  stage,  where  the  riddle  comes  before  us  in  its 
crudest  and  sharpest  form,  the  answer  would  have  been  more 
than  ever  instructive.  All  that  wo  know  of  the  play  is  that 
Prometheus  speaks  the  word  which  secures  Zeus  in  his  domin- 
ion. As  a  sign  of  his  subjection  ho  wears  a  wreath  of  withy, 
the  tree  whose  twigs  are  generally  employed  as  bonds. 

A  similar  contrast  makes  itself  apparent  in  the  other  dra- 


^SCHYLUS.  291 

mas  of  ^schylus.  In  the  "Seven  against  Thebes"  the  mo- 
tive of  the  plot  is  the  reh'gious  contrast  between  the  besiegers 
and  the  defenders  of  the  city.  The  besiegers  disregard  the 
unfavorable  omens  of  sacrifice ;  thej  boast  that  they  will  take 
the  city  whether  the  gods  will  it  or  no.  On  their  shields  they 
bear  the  symbols  of  pride ;  as,  for  instance,  a  picture  of  Ty- 
phoeus  vomiting  forth  smoke  and  flame.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  defenders  of  the  city  cling  to  the  protection  of  the  gods 
with  a  fervor  that  is  even  troublesome  to  their  commander. 
A  splendid  figure  is  Eteocles,  a  man  resolute  and  circumspect, 
who  feels  sure  of  victory  through  the  favor  of  the  gods  in  the 
face  of  all  his  enemies'  pride.  He  has  the  advantage  over 
Polyneikes  in  that  he  defends  his  native  altars  and  his  father- 
land. But  beyond  the  conflict  his  fate  awaits  him.  The 
Erinyes,  aroused  by  the  unholy  marriage,  are  yet  nnappeased, 
and  to  them  he  falls  a  victim  in  the  moment  of  victory. 

Another  aspect  of  victory  through  alliance  with  the  gods 
appears  in  the  "  Persians."  The  fall  of  Xerxes  is  the  result  of 
the  crime  which  he  committed  in  stripping  the  statues  of  the 
gods  and  in  burning  their  temples,  and  of  his  violence  in 
aspiring  to  bind  the  river  of  God,  the  Bosporus  and  the  sa- 
cred Hellespont.  His  father  is  called  up  from  the  under- 
world to  foretell  his  fate.  The  land  was  now,  as  the  poet 
adds,  allied  with  the  gods,  and  endowed  with  wisdom  and  un- 
tiring courage. 

We  may  be  permitted  to  take  a  glance  at  the  other  dramas 
of  ^schylus  from  the  same  point  of  view.  In  the  "  Suppli- 
ants" the  king  would  doubtless  be  regarded  as  the  protago- 
nist. At  any  rate,  everything  depends  upon  the  resolution 
which  he  takes  when  the  suppliants  threaten  to  destroy  them- 
selves at  the  very  feet  of  the  statues  of  the  gods.  He  decides 
to  protect  them  rather  than  permit  such  a  defilement  of  the 
land.  He  ventures  this  step  in  conjunction  with  his  people, 
though  aware  that  it  will  involve  him  in  war.  The  following 
play,  the  "  Danaids,"  of  which  only  a  few  verses  are  preserved, 
no  doubt  showed  that  his  expectations  were  not  deceived. 
The  relations  between  gods  and  men  receive  special  illustra- 
tion in  this  drama  from  the  way  in  which  the  gods  of  the 
country  at  one  time  ward  off  the  foreigner  and  at  another 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

take  him  into  their  protection.  With  such  great  contrasts 
our  poet  is  always  concerned. 

Into  the  depth  of  these  contrasts  we  are  introduced  in  the 
"Oresteia."  The  first  choric  ode  of  the  "Agamemnon" 
brings  the  old  conflict  of  the  gods  to  our  recollection.  The 
chorus  sides  with  him  who  has  been  thrice  victorious  in  this 
conflict,  with  Zeus,  whoever  he  may  be,  Zeus,  who  leads  men 
by  suffering  to  thought.  The  plot  depends  on  Agamemnon's 
resolution  to  appease  the  wrath  of  Artemis  by  the  sacrifice  of 
his  child.  He  bows  to  necessity,  and,  as  he  does  so,  thoughts 
unholy  and  criminal  come  into  his  mind.  The  chorus  relates 
with  sympathetic  horror  how  the  evil  deed  was  done  upon  the 
innocent  child.  In  this  religion  there  is  a  strange  contradic- 
tion in  that,  in  order  to  please  the  gods,  it  is  necessary  to  do 
that  which  is  evil.  Agamemnon  at  length  returns,  covered 
with  glory,  his  task  accomplished ;  but  vengeance  awaits  him 
in  his  own  home.  The  murderess,  magnificent  in  the  studied 
composure  with  which  she  carries  out  her  plan,  can,  at  least, 
say  that  her  hand  fulfils  only  the  ends  of  justice,  that  it  is  her 
spouse  who  has  brought  evil  on  the  house.  The  chorus  do 
not  venture  to  deny  her  plea.  It  is  only  against  her  immoral 
connection  with  ^gisthus,  and  against  JEgisthus  himself,  who 
has  polluted  the  hero's  bed  and  then  helped  in  his  murder, 
that  they  pour  forth  their  rage  and  horror.  It  is  this  sin 
which  brings  vengeance  on  the  guilty  pair.  Apollo  will  not 
allow  the  union  between  man  and  wife,  a  union  sanctified  by 
the  favor  of  Zeus  and  of  Ilera,  the  goddess  of  wedlock,  to  be 
dishonored  in  this  fashion.  By  every  kind  of  encouragement 
and  threat  he  urges  on  the  son  of  the  murdered  man  to  slay 
the  murderers  in  like  manner  as  they  slew  his  father. 

The  play  of  the  "  Choephoroe  "  shows  liow  Orestes  carries 
out  the  oracular  command.  He  slays  ^gisthus.  As  he  is 
about  to  slay  his  mother,  and  as  she  kneels  before  him,  he 
hesitates  a  moment ;  his  friend  urges  him  on,  for  no  word  of 
Apollo,  says  he,  may  remain  unfulfilled  ;  it  were  better  to  have 
all  else  against  one  than  the  gods.  But  hardly  lias  the  hor- 
rid deed  been  done  when  Orestes  feels  himself  under  the  con- 
trol of  another  power.  Apollo  has  promised  him  that  he  shall 
be  free  from  guilt,  but  this  does  not  save  him  from  the  results 


^SCHYLUS.  293 

of  his  action.  He  feels  Lis  senses  at  once  go  astray,  like  a 
chariot  can-ied  out  of  its  course  in  the  race,  and  the  Furies, 
the  avengers  of  his  mother,  their  heads  wreathed  with  ser- 
pents, throw  themselves  upon  him  like  savage  hounds. 

The  Furies  are  the  daughters  of  ancient  Night.  They  did 
not  pursue  Clytseranestra,  because  she  was  of  different  family 
from  Agamemnon ;  but  to  exact  vengeance  for  a  deed  of 
blood,  like  that  which  the  son  had  done  upon  the  mother,  is 
the  object  of  their  existence.  That  is  their  oflSce  and  their 
prerogative,  and  the  whole  world  would  be  out  of  joint  if  they 
did  not  fulfil  it.  When  Apollo  takes  the  part  of  the  wretched 
man,  whom  his  oracular  reply  has  induced  to  brave  this  dan- 
ger, their  wrath  is  aroused  against  the  new  gods,  by  whom 
they  are  robbed  of  the  honor  due  to  them,  and  whose  new- 
fangled laws  are  to  upset  the  ancient  order  of  the  world. 
They  refuse  to  give  way  to  Apollo,  though  he  appeals  to  Zeus, 
or  to  Pallas,  with  whom  Orestes  has  taken  refuge,  though  they 
recognize  her  wisdom.  Who,  then,  is  to  decide  between  the 
justice  of  the  primeval  world  and  the  decrees  of  the  new  gods, 
between  the  violation  of  the  marriage  tie,  w^hich  is  the  prov- 
ince of  the  latter,  and  the  violation  of  filial  duty,  over  which 
the  former  preside  ?  Strange  to  say,  ^schylus  lays  the  deci- 
sion before  a  human  tribunal.  The  votes  are  equally  divided, 
but  the  goddess  in  whose  hands  the  right  to  decide  in  such  a 
case  is  acknowledged  to  lie  gives  her  vote  for  Orestes.  His 
cause  is  also  that  of  the  gods  themselves:  the  ground  of  the 
verdict  is  the  will  of  Zeus  alone.  A  still  more  important 
point,  treated  with  such  detail  as  to  show  clearly  the  weight 
attached  to  it  by  the  poet,  is  that  the  Erinyes,  though  on  this 
occasion  they  are  balked  of  their  prey,  are  to  be  revered  for 
all  future  time.  No  house,  it  is  agreed,  can  prosper  without 
them,  and  the  lot  of  the  man  who  does  them  honor  will  be 
blessed. 

These  are  scenes  out  of  the  conflict  between  things  human 
and  divine,  between  the  powers  of  nature,  which  have  a  moral 
weight,  and  laws,  which  have  a  later  origin.  It  is  these  laws 
which  get  the  upper  hand.  The  gods  are  powers  which  must 
be  acknowledged  and  revered,  because  they  have  jurisdiction 
over  men,  and  can  confer  blessings  on  them  if  they  will. 


294  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

^schylus  leads  us  into  tlie  thick  of  the  struggle,  wliich  Pin- 
dar looks  back  upon  after  its  close.  The  ideal  of  -^schylus 
is  activity  and  courage.  The  ideal  of  Pindar  is  rest  and  glory 
when  the  prize  is  won. 

The  dramatic  poet  and  his  audience,  which  in  this  case  is 
the  people,  constantly  act  and  react  upon  each  other.  The 
thoughts  which  ^schylus  expressed  gain  a  peculiar  historical 
value  from  the  fact  that  they  were  understood  and  echoed  by 
the  people.  But  he  had  at  last  to  discover  that  he  was  no 
longer  in  sympathy  with  them.  The  judges  chosen  out  of 
the  ten  tribes  adjudged  the  prize  to  a  younger  rival,  Sopho- 
cles, who  was  his  junior  by  thirty  years.  The  spirit  of  the 
age  was  ripe  for  a  change  in  the  mode  of  representation  as 
well  as  in  the  subjects  represented  on  the  stage. 

4.  Sophocles. 

In  Sophocles  I  do  not  discover  that  severance  between  the 
gods  and  the  powers  of  the  primeval  world  of  which  ^schy- 
lus  is  so  full.  Such  thoughts  as  these  are  alien  to  his  age  and 
to  its  views  of  life.  Nor,  again,  do  I  discover  any  actual  con- 
flict with  the  gods,  such  as  that  undertaken  by  the  Seven  or  by 
other  heroes  in  ^schylus.  The  utmost  to  which  the  charac- 
ters of  Sophocles  can  be  incited  is  a  sort  of  defiant  trust  in 
their  own  powers ;  such,  for  instance,  as  appears  in  Aias.  But 
great  destinies  are  not  affected  by  this  conduct:  they  are  in- 
dependent of  all  human  interference. 

In  the  drama  of  "  (Edipus  Rex  "  no  guilt  rests  upon  the 
king.  There  is  no  mention  even  of  any  earlier  crime  which 
might  be  still  crying  for  vengeance.  (Edipus  is  a  king,  who 
has  been  elected  because  he  freed  the  city  from  tlie  hideous 
toll  exacted  by  the  Sphinx.  He  enjoys  tlie  fullest  reverence 
as  the  first  of  men,  universally  trusted  in  all  kinds  of  ditiicul- 
ties.  When  the  troubles  begin  he  distinguishes  himself  nobly 
by  his  care  for  the  community  in  general,  and  for  every  in- 
dividual among  his  subjects.  But  a  fate  impends  of  which 
he  knows  nothing.  The  royal  house  of  Thebes,  wlien  evil  is 
foretold  by  the  oracle,  does  all  in  its  power  to  liinder  its  ful- 
filment, but  by  these  very  efforts  bring  about  the  disaster  they 
would  avoid.    Tho  mother  exposes  her  son ;  tho  son,  arrived 


SOPHOCLES.  295 

at  manhood,  flees  from  his  supposed  parents :  yet  each  helps 
to  fulfil  his  destiny.  The  tragedy  of  (Edipus  is  full  of  living 
dramatic  interest.  (Edipus,  conscious  of  perfect  innocence, 
and  asserting  that  innocence  in  terms  of  passionate  indigna- 
tion, seeks  to  discover  the  secret  of  the  evil  by  which  the 
city  is  oppressed.  He  searched  far  and  wide  until  the  hid- 
eous truth  is  known,  and  an  act  revealed  on  which  the  sun 
ought  never  to  have  shone,  and  which  no  water  can  wash 
away.  Happiness,  genuine  happiness,  turns  to  misery  and 
tears,  and  (Edipus  is  forced  to  regard  himself  as  the  man  of 
all  others  most  hateful  to  the  gods.  He  puts  out  his  own 
eyes  in  order  to  escape  from  the  community  of  earthly  things 
and  creatures.  The  ordinances  of  nature,  which  appear  in- 
Sophocles  as  the  ordinances  of  the  gods,  have  been  violated 
by  his  birth.  They  can  only  be  restored  by  his  annihila- 
tion. 

It  is  equally  impossible  to  discover  any  guilt  wortliy  of 
punishment  in  Deianeira  and  Heracles.  The  "Trachinise,"  as 
the  piece  is  called,  ends  with  an  outspoken  indictment  of  the 
gods.  In  this  play,  too,  there  hangs  over  all  the  shadow  of 
a  terrible  fate,  which  is  brought  to  pass  by  the  very  effort  to 
avoid  it.  The  slaying  of  the  centaur  Nessus,  on  which  every- 
thing turns,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  guilty  deed ;  for  his 
death  was  but  the  punishment  which  he  deserved.  As  little 
can  the  connection  of  Heracles  with  lole  be  regarded  in  this 
light,  for  that  would  be  opposed  to  Greek  ideas.  The  ap- 
proach of  fate  reveals  no  cause  of  misfortune  except  a  terri- 
ble destiny.  It  would  be  a  mistake  to  say  that  in  all  cases 
guilt  must  be  forthcoming  to  account  for  the  course  of  events, 
for  destiny  accomplishes  itself  independently  of  such  justifi- 
cation. It  was  one  of  the  merits  of  Heracles  that  he  rid 
the  world  of  a  centaur  at  once  violent  and  lustful.  But  the 
slain  centaur  leaves  a  legacy  behind  him,  in  consequence  of 
which  the  hero  who  chastised  him  is  doomed  to  perish.  There 
is  no  moral  lesson  to  be  learned  here ;  the  gods  see  the  ap- 
proach of  fate,  but  do  not  defend  even  their  own  offspring 
from  the  blow. 

In  the  "  Aias  "  the  insulted  goddess  goes  so  far  as  to  drive 
the  hero  into  madness,  to  make  his  life  intolerable  to  him, 


296  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

and  afterwards  to  boast  of  the  deed.  Nor  can  we  see  any 
sufficient  cause  for  the  woes  of  Philoctetes.  The  only  reason 
why  he  should  linger  for  nine  long  years  in  agony  and  soli- 
tude is  that  Troy  is  not  to  be  taken  till  the  tenth.  There  is 
no  severance  here  between  the  gods  and  fate.  On  the  con- 
trary, these  powers  have  struck  a  terrible  alliance,  to  which 
men  can  only  submit.  "  In  all  that  happens  there  is  nothing 
in  which  the  highest  divinity  does  not  play  a  part."  Nor 
can  we  doubt  that  these  views  corresponded  to  the  received 
opinions  of  the  day.  There  is  no  choice  but  submission  to 
the  gods,  whose  sway  is  unapproachable  and  absolute.  The 
oracles  have  a  dread  reality ;  their  responses  are  universally 
believed,  however  unexpected  their  fulfilment  may  be. 

The  poet,  convinced  of  the  nothingness  of  human  existence, 
believes  in  the  necessity  of  submission,  and  considers  it  his 
duty  to  confirm  the  people  in  the  same  belief.  But  the  stage 
would  become  intolerable  if  all  its  efforts  were  directed  only 
to  display  the  development  of  fate.  Such  is  by  no  means  the 
intention  of  Sophocles :  he  prefers  to  lay  the  chief  stress  upon 
the  bearing  of  a  man  when  he  meets  his  end.  (Edipus  dis- 
plays the  elevation  of  a  noble  resolve  originating  in  self -abhor- 
rence. Aias,  who  at  one  time  seems  inclined  to  submit,  puts 
an  end  to  his  own  life,  and  prepares  for  the  deed  in  a  solilo- 
quy of  unequalled  grandeur.  In  the  "  Trachinice  "  the  psy- 
chological motive  of  the  play  is  to  be  found  in  the  character 
of  Deianeira,  who,  though  not  devoured  by  jealousy,  seeks  to 
secure  her  husband's  affections  by  means  to  all  appearance 
harmless,  but,  at  the  very  moment  when  she  comes  to  this 
decision,  begins  again  to  doubt,  and  perishes  before  the  man 
whose  death  she  has  occasioned. 

Sophocles  always  weaves  one  or  other  of  the  strongest  mo- 
tives of  personal  life  into  his  tragedies.  In  the  "  Trachinifie  " 
it  is  the  affection  of  a  wife,  in  the  "  (Edipus  at  Colonus  "  the 
affection  of  a  daughter.  In  the  "  Antigone  "  is  displayed  a 
sister's  love,  in  the  "  Aias "  the  manly  and  successful  devo- 
tion of  a  brother.  Sophocles  possessed  one  advantage  over 
^schylus  in  being  able  to  employ  a  third  actor,  the  so-Ciilled 
Tritagonist.  He  was  thus  enabled  to  give  more  distinctness 
to  his  characters,  and  to  place  thorn  in  all  their  variety  and 


SOPHOCLES.  297 

individuality  before  our  eyes.  The  special  merit  of  this  poet 
consists  in  his  complete  illustration  of  the  hidden  but  simple 
motives  of  human  action. 

In  the  "  Antigone  "  as  well  as  in  the  "  Electra  "  we  are  re- 
minded of  ^schylus.  In  the  first  of  these  two  pieces,  as  in 
^schylus,  the  rights  of  Dike,  of  the  under-world,  and  of  the 
Erinyes  appear  inviolable.  But  in  Sophocles  Zeus  and  Dike 
are  allied.  The  contradiction  which  disturbs  the  world  makes 
its  appearance  in  Creon.  He  can  hardly  be  charged  with  in- 
justice in  aiming  a  stern  command  against  the  man  who  has 
marched  with  hostile  intent  upon  the  city  of  his  fathers.  But 
by  this  severity  he  offends  the  eternal  and  unapproachable 
powers.  He  refuses  burial  to  the  dead,  tliougli  Hades  has  a 
sort  of  right  to  demand  it.  He  displays  his  cruelty  in  con- 
demning to  death  the  sister  who  has  performed  the  ceremony 
of  burial  in  spite  of  his  prohibition,  although  she  belongs  to 
the  gods  of  tlie  upper  and  visible  world.  His  son,  to  whom 
the  maiden  is  betrothed,  is  thereupon  brought  on  the  stage, 
and  his  character  portrayed  in  rapid  touches.  Full  as  he  is 
of  respect  for  paternal  authorit}^,  sympathy  for  his  mistress 
drives  him  into  suicide.  The  character  of  Antigone,  in  whicli 
reverence  for  the  divine,  haughty  resentment  against  the  pow- 
ers that  be,  and  graceful  maidenly  reserve  are  mingled,  is, 
indeed,  inimitable.  Her  act  has  public  opinion  on  its  side, 
though  that  opinion  hardly  dares  to  make  itself  heard.  It 
receives  approval  from  the  retainers  of  the  house,  and  last  of 
all  from  the  blind  seer,  who  appears  as  the  interpreter  of  the 
laws  of  Heaven.  Creon  accomplishes  bis  own  ruin  by  resist- 
ing all  persuasion  till  it  is  too  late. 

Sophocles  keeps  ^schylus  nowhere  more  clearly  before 
his  eyes  than  in  the  "  Electra."  The  subject  is  the  same  as 
that  of  the  "  Choephoroe."  The  most  prominent  motive  whicli 
serves  to  bring  on  the  development,  namel}^,  the  dream  of 
Clyteemnestra  and  her  consequent  resolution  to  make  an  of- 
fering to  the  shade  of  the  murdered  man,  is  borrowed  from 
^schylus,  together  with  the  false  report  of  the  death  of 
Orestes.  But  in  spite  of  this  similarity  a  profound  difference 
is  throughout  apparent.  Tlie  threads  are  cut  short  just  at 
the  point  where  they  are  connected  with  the  great  whole 


298  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

which  -^schyhis  has  in  his  mind.  There  is  no  mention  here 
of  the  Furies  who  in  ^schjlus  seize  upon  Orestes.  In  the 
dream  that  Agamemnon's  sceptre  puts  forth  fresh  buds  the 
act  of  Orestes  is  prefigured  as  a  reassertion  of  his  hereditary 
rights.  No  trace  is  to  be  found  in  Sophocles  of  that  contrast 
between  the  murder  of  iEgisthus  and  the  murder  of  Cljtoera- 
nestra  which  forms  the  very  foundation  of  the  earlier  play. 
The  poet  approves  the  act,  and  regards  it  as  an  act  of  justice. 
The  main  interest  of  the  play  centres  in  the  character  of 
Electra.  She  it  was  who  saved  Orestes,  and  this  act  subjects 
her  to  treatment  of  the  most  oppressive  nature,  which  seems 
likely  to  end  in  something  worse.  Still  she  refuses  to  sub- 
mit :  she  impersonates  wisdom  and  goodness  attacked  by  evil. 
From  fear  of  Zeus  she  keeps  to  what  is  lawful,  but  she  is  on 
the  point  of  resolving  to  attempt  the  deed  of  vengeance,  when 
the  brother  whom  she  believed  to  be  dead  appears.  Sophocles 
takes  great  pains  to  develop  in  detail  the  character  of  Electra 
in  her  relation  to  her  sister,  her  mother,  and  her  brother.  At 
the  moment  when  the  latter  is  about  to  do  the  deed  she  in- 
cites him,  with  masculine  and  even  cruel  vehemence,  to  carry 
out  his  purpose.  To  accomplish  her  revenge  she  uses  deceit, 
and  mingles  her  deceit  witli  savage  irony.  She  is  the  very 
daughter  of  Clytaemnestra  iis  she  appears  in  the  "Agamem- 
non "  of  ^schylus. 

Resistance  to  tyrannical  power  is  altogether  a  peculiar  ele- 
ment in  Sophocles.  It  appeal's  in  Aias,  in  Ileemon  and  Teire- 
fiias,  in  (Edipus,  and  most  of  all  in  Antigone.  The  contrast 
between  eternal  justice  and  a  law  which  is  the  offspring  of 
caprice  is  nowhere  more  clearly  marked  than  in  Sophocles. 
The  spirit  of  these  plays  is  directly  opposed  to  the  unmiti- 
gated dominion  of  political  interests,  which  combine  force  and 
fraud,  while  sufferings  due  to  such  a  cause  acquire  a  special 
character  and  arouse  the  most  intense  sympathy.  Creon  in 
"CEdipus  Rex''  is  a  figure  worth  examining  from  this  point 
of  view.  The  difference  between  the  personal  influence  of 
a  man  in  high  position  and  mere  official  authority  is  aptly 
pointed  out,  and  the  preference  given  to  the  former.  What 
gives  the  play  of  "  Philoctetes  "  its  special  meaning  is  the 
fact  that  Ncoptolcmus,  after  promising  Odysseus  at  the  out- 


SOPHOCLES.  299 

set  that  he  will  employ  craft  and  conning  to  obtain  the  end 
wliich  they  have  in  view,  returns  to  his  better  self  and  to  the 
law  of  humanity,  and  refuses  to  serve  in  such  a  cause.  He  is 
a  young  man  of  frank  and  open  character,  who  abhors  the 
ways  of  secrecy.  In  the  same  spirit  the  seer  tells  CEdipus 
that  he  is  not  in  the  service  of  the  king,  but  in  the  service 
of  God.  The  reverence  due  to  the  state  and  the  reverence 
due  to  God  are  here  opposed  to  each  other,  and  urge  their 
respective  claims  as  they  do  throughout  the  whole  of  histor3\ 
Sophocles  constantly  reveres  the  unwritten  laws  of  the  gods. 
Olympus  is  their  father ;  they  are  begotten  in  the  everlasting 
aether ;  they  are  not  the  mere  offspring  of  human  intelli- 
gence, nor  can  they  ever  be  forgotten. 

It  is,  perhaps,  only  the  ancient  quarrel  renewed  upon  an- 
other field.  It  becomes  clearer  and  more  instructive  by  being 
brought  down  into  the  region  of  the  human  from  that  of  the 
divine,  and  represented  as  a  conflict  between  the  moral  powers 
and  the  empire  of  the  day.  The  poet's  voice  is  always  raised 
in  behalf  of  the  established  political  system,  of  those  ideas  on 
which  the  fabric  of  society  rests,  on  the  reverence  due  to  the 
gods :  on  these  things  none  may  lay  his  hand.  But  the  at- 
mosphere of  thought  is  already  imbued  with  political  feeling. 
When  Menelaus  was  honored  in  Sparta  as  a  Spartan  hero, 
and  Aias  in  Athens  as  an  Athenian,  it  cannot  be  mere  chance 
that  they  are  opposed  to  each  other  in  the  play,  and  that 
Menelaus,  expressly  called  a  king  of  Sparta,  is  portrayed  in 
so  disadvantageous  a  light.  The  subject  of  the  "  QCdipus  at 
Colonus"  is  the  contrast  between  Thebes,  which  banishes  Iier 
king,  and  Athens,  which  receives  him  and  provides  him  with 
a  grave.  The  religious  feeling  and  prudent  moderation  that 
distinguish  Athens  are  represented  as  the  sources  of  her  gran- 
deur and  success.  Theseus  is  a  highly  gifted  and  kingly  nat- 
ure ;  his  conduct  is  rewarded  by  promises  which  foretell  the 
safety  and  future  greatness  of  Athens.  But,  while  touching 
this  string,  the  poet  is  only  the  more  eager  to  adorn  the  death 
of  the  ill-fated  (Edipus  with  all  the  graces  of  dramatic  repre- 
sentation. The  conflict  of  his  soul,  between  love  for  the 
daughters  who  tend  him  and  hatred  for  the  son  who  has  ex- 
pelled him,  is  at  once  elevated  and  terrible.     The  political 


300  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

relations  are  overshadowed  by  the  ideal  representation  of  a 
tragic  fate,  and  are  forgotten  by  the  spectator. 

In  these  plays  the  narratives  are  especially  successful,  but 
the  dialogue  vies  with  them  in  its  argumentative  power,  while 
the  soaring  flight  of  the  choric  odes  is  not  to  be  excelled. 
The  language  of  Sophocles  is  the  most  solid,  the  purest,  the 
most  beautiful  which  has  ever  served  to  express  the  emo- 
tions of  the  human  spirit. 

5.  Euripides. 

Euripides  was  too  young  to  strive  with  ^schylus  for  the 
dramatic  prize ;  his  immediate  predecessor  and  rival  was 
Sophocles.  Twelve  years  after  the  appearance  of  the  latter, 
Euripides,  then  twenty-five  years  old,  brought  his  first  piece 
upon  the  stage.  The  extant  plays  of  these  two  dramatists 
are  nearly  contemporary,  beginning  with  the  date  440  b.c.  in 
the  one  case,  and  with  438  b.c.  in  the  other.  The  greater  part 
of  them  were  brought  out  during  the  time  of  the  Peloponne- 
sian  war. 

Euripides,  like  his  predecessors,  seized  upon  the  material 
supplied  by  the  legends  of  gods  and  heroes,  in  which  the 
nation  had  enshrined  its  ideas  of  heavenly  and  earthly  things. 
In  the  way  in  which  he  approaches  the  question  he  is  far 
removed  from  ^schylus.  Like  Sophocles  and  Pindar,  he  re- 
gards the  Olympian  gods  as  absolute  rulers.  lie  says  nothing 
of  the  struggle  between  the  gods  and  the  powere  of  nature,  or 
of  the  contrast  between  a  dominant  but  artificial  order  of  the 
world  and  the  physical  and  intellectual  forces,  which  liave 
succumbed  in  the  conflict.  But  if  we  would  obtain  a  definite 
idea  of  his  peculiar  mode  of  tliought,  which  was,  or,  at  least, 
became,  the  thought  of  his  age,  we  must  not  shun  the  labor 
of  examining  in  detail  the  internal  composition  of  his  plays. 

What  appears  as  an  exception  in  the  "Aias"  of  Sophocles 
—  namely,  the  personal  share  taken  by  the  goddess  in  the 
hero's  misfortunes — is  in  Euripides  the  rule.  Plicedra  falls  in 
love  with  Ilippolytus,  as  Aphrodite  confesses,  by  her  advice. 
It  is  Ilera  by  whom  Heracles,  having  performed  the  tasks 
laid  upon  him  by  Eurystheus,  is  driven  into  madness :  Iris 
herself  brings  Lyssa,  tlio  daughter  of  Night,  to  destroy  him. 


EURIPIDES.  301 

The  destinies  of  Iphigeneia  and  Macaria  are  what  they  are 
because  offerings  have  to  be  made  to  Artemis  and  to  Deme- 
ter.  Achilles  himself  appears  as  a  god  when  he  restrains  the 
Grecian  ships  on  the  eve  of  their  departure  from  Troy  till 
Polyxena  is  sacrificed  in  his  honor.  Neoptolemus  has  to  die 
for  the  insult  he  has  done  to  Apollo,  be  his  repentance  so 
deep  as  it  will;  at  the  critical  moment  a  voice  from  the  in- 
most shrine  demands  his  death.  That  Apollo  is  the  author 
of  all  the  ills  which  fall  upon  the  head  of  Orestes  is  more 
harshly  apparent  here  than  even  in  ^schylus. 

The  chief  motive  in  the  tragedy  of  Euripides  is,  in  fact,  the 
personal  hatred  of  the  gods.  Yet  this  hatred  has  no  further 
justification ;  it  provokes  no  real  resistance ;  it  merely  deter- 
mines the  lot  of  men.  It  is  of  essential  importance  that  the 
events  of  the  play  are  introduced  by  a  prologue,  and  that  the 
catastrophe  is  brought  about  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  a 
god.  Between  these  two  points  the  heroes  move  to  and  fro 
in  human  wise ;  but  with  all  their  impulses,  their  passions, 
their  virtues,  and  their  thoughts  they  exercise  no  decisive  in- 
fluence on  the  event. 

These  conditions  lend  to  some  of  the  plays  of  Euripides, 
for  instance,  the  "  Troades,"  an  inexhaustible  charm.  The 
subject  of  this  play  is  the  allotment  of  the  captive  women 
after  the  conquest  of  Troy  and  the  slaughter  of  the  one  sur- 
viving scion  of  the  royal  house  who  might  be  expected  to  at- 
tempt the  restoration  of  the  city.  The  Greeks  perform  the 
work  of  destruction  with  the  strictest  logical  completeness. 
But,  with  happy  intuition,  Euripides  extends  the  scope  of  his 
prologue  on  this  occasion  far  beyond  the  point  to  which  the 
spectator  is  led  in  the  drama  itself.  Prophecies  of  evil  to 
come  make  themselves  heard  through  all  the  din  of  victory, 
and  one  is  made  aware  that  these  cruel  conquerors  are  them- 
selves doomed  to  destruction.  Nothing  can  be  more  im- 
pressive than  the  hymeneal  ode  w^hich  Cassandra  sings  for 
herself.  She  has  the  inspired  conviction  that  it  is  through 
his  union  with  her  that  the  destroyer  is  to  be  destroj^ed. 
Euripides  took  his  model  from  the  complete  destruction  of 
conquered  cities,  which  in  Greece  was  the  order  of  the  day,  and 
in  which  many  a  woman  must  have  shared  the  fate  of  Hecuba. 


302  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

In  Euripides  I  am  especially  struck  by  the  contrast  be- 
tween barbarians  and  Hellenes,  agreeing  in  the  main  with 
the  conception  of  that  contrast  which  we  find  in  Herodotus. 
It  appears  in  the  "  Medeia,"  in  the  "  Iphigeneia  in  Tauris," 
and  even  in  those  pieces  which  are  taken  from  the  cycle  of 
Trojan  legend.  Euripides  reckons  even  the  Trojans  as  bar- 
barians. They  are  distinguished  by  looser  modes  of  thought, 
by  more  splendid  clothing,  by  unconditional  obedience  to 
their  lords,  by  a  certain  coarseness  of  character.  Between 
them  and  the  Hellenes  no  friendship  can  exist.  The  object 
with  which  the  Greeks  sail  to  Troy  is  that  they  may  strike  a 
blow  at  barbarism. 

Euripides  does  not  take  the  trouble  to  adapt  his  plays  to 
the  past  times  of  the  heroic  w^orld,  but  transfers  to  liis  heroes 
the  conditions  which  he  sees  before  his  eyes.  Several  of  his 
dramatic  complications  rest  upon  mistakes  in  which  the  art  of 
writing  is  concerned.  Theseus  and  Heracles  talk  philosophy 
about  the  nature  of  the  gods.  Euripides  transplants  not  only 
the  political  but  the  domestic  conditions  of  his  day  into  the 
heroic  world,  and  in  handling  great  destinies  he  develops  the 
sentiments  of  each  member  of  the  different  families.  In  the 
play  of  ^schylus  on  the  war  against  Thebes  the  whole  stress 
is  laid  upon  the  disposition  of  Eteocles  alone.  But  Euripides 
in  the  "  Phoenissge  "  brings  the  mother  on  the  stage,  though 
according  to  other  tradition  she  had  long  been  dead,  and  rep- 
resents lier  as  trying  to  reconcile  the  unnatural  brothers.  In 
the  "  Orestes  "  the  uncle  and  his  restored  spouse  interfere  with 
decisive  effect ;  the  aged  Tyndareus  and  the  whole  royal 
house  appear.  So,  too,  in  the  "  Andromache"  Peleus  is  con- 
trasted with  his  obstinate  granddaugliter-in-law,  while  in  the 
"  Iphigeneia  in  Aulis"  we  see  father  and  uncle,  mother  and 
bridegroom,  play  their  different  parts. 

The  play  of  "  Electra,"  in  spite  of  the  lofty  and  mythical 
nature  of  its  subject,  gives  one  almost  the  impression  of  a 
tragedy  of  domestic  life.  Electra  is  living  in  virgin  wedlock ; 
in  her  home  the  scene  of  the  whole  play  is  laid.  Mythical 
tone  and  color  are  sacrified  to  a  less  ambitious  realism.  Both 
Sophocles  and  Euripides  represent  Electra  as  at  strife  with 
Clytoemnestra,  but  while  the  formci'  lays  stress  upon  the  idea 


EURIPIDES.  303 

of  justice,  the  latter  dwells  on  the  one  band  on  the  connection 
between  Agamemnon  and  Cassandra,  and  on  the  other  on  the 
cruel  treatment  of  Clvtsemnestra's  children,  resultinor  from 
her  marriage  with  ^gisthus.  Kegarding  affairs  from  this 
point  of  view,  it  is  not  surprising  that  Euripides  should  have 
framed  a  sort  of  domestic  philosophy :  at  any  rate  we  find 
constantly  in  him  reflections  of  a  domestic  kind  which  may 
be  worked  into  a  consistent  scheme. 

Domestic  feeling  is  the  groundwork  of  the  "Medeia"  and 
the  "  Phoedra,"  which  may  be  regarded  as  his  most  successful 
plays.  Medcia  may  well  be  compared  with  the  Deianeira  of 
Sophocles,  but  while  the  latter  only  seeks  to  secure  her  hus- 
band's affections  Medeia  directs  all  her  fury  against  her  rival 
and  her  own  children.  She  has  no  desire  to  kill  Jason ;  all 
that  she  wishes  to  compass  is  the  ruin  of  his  happiness.  The 
future  bliss  he  aims  at  building  up  for  himself,  in  despite  and 
in  contempt  of  his  former  love,  fills  her  soul  with  savage  reso- 
lution. There  is  nothing  in  the  range  of  poetry  at  once  more 
pregnant  and  more  terrible  than  the  farewell  which  Medeia 
takes  of  her  children.  It  cannot  be  called  a  mental  conflict, 
for  she  has  no  doubts ;  she  is  fully  conscious  of  her  love  for 
her  children,  and  expresses  it  with  the  utmost  warmth,  but 
her  fury  and  her  hate  are  stronger  still,  and  she  sacrifices  her 
offspring  in  spite  of  all  her  love,  like  the  barbaric  lioness  she 
is.  As  to  the  "  Phaedra,"  it  has  long  ago  been  pointed  out 
how  far  the  development  of  passion  is  carried  in  that  play  be- 
yond all  possibility  of  imitation  in  later  times. 

Euripides,  with  all  his  defects,  is  one  of  the  most  powerful 
and  inventive  poets  that  have  ever  lived.  There  is  no  single 
piece  of  his  which  did  not  charm  the  spectator  with  the 
glamour  of  some  thrilling  situation.  To  the  rich  material  of 
heroic  legend,  which  was  employed  by  his  predecessors,  he 
added  the  cycle  of  myths  that  centred  round  Heracles,  and 
made  it  completely  his  own.  In  all  that  he  writes  he  seeks 
to  bring  into  prominence  some  human  interest,  and  especially 
those  points  which  give  rise  to  a  conflict  of  passions.  The 
innocence  of  youthful  manhood  engaged  in  the  service  of  the 
temple,  or  its  fresh  and  manly  courage  displayed  in  field 
sports  and  the  chase,  maidenly  self-sacrifice  to  a  great  idea,  as 


304  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATUKE. 

in  Ipliigeneia  and  Polyxena,  or  wifely  devotion  for  a  hus- 
band, as  in  Alkestis,  are  portrayed  in  tonches  as  imperishable 
as  those  which  illustrate  the  pangs  of  jealousy  or  the  fury  of 
passion. 

I  know  not  if  Euripides  attained  to  what  the  theory  of 
tragedy  demands ;  he  was,  at  any  rate,  a  poet  of  the  keenest 
sensibility  and  the  greatest  talent,  which  he  employed  with 
infinite  success.  During  his  lifetime  the  fame  and  popularity 
of  his  works  had  reached  to  Sicily.  They  spread  gradually 
through  the  whole  circumference  of  the  Greek  and  after- 
wards of  the  Roman  world,  either  directly  or  by  means  of 
imitations.  It  has  been  justly  remarked  that  they  form  one 
of  the  most  important  elements  of  later  culture,  and  it  is  cer- 
tain that  they  have  contributed  not  a  little  to  mould  existing 
opinion. 

We  shall  therefore  be  justified  in  alluding  once  more  to 
the  phase  of  religious  thought  to  which  they  give  expression. 
Euripides  sides  with  Pindar,  who  refused  to  believe  in  the 
feast  of  Tantalus.  His  Iphigeneia  says  that  they  must  have 
been  murderous  wretches  who  laid  such  things  to  the  charge 
of  the  gods.  In  the  conversation  between  Tlieseus  and  Her- 
acles, to  which  allusion  has  already  been  made,  the  one  is 
highly  offended  by  the  marriage  of  brother  and  sister  in  the 
case  of  Zeus  and  Hera,  and  by  the  chaining  of  Kronos,  while 
the  other  holds  these  stories  to  be  mere  poetical  inventions. 

But  it  is  not  so  easy  to  explain  away  the  immoral  acts  of 
the  gods  when,  as  generally  happens,  they  are  of  the  essence 
of  the  piece.  In  such  cases  mankind,  who  suffer  at  the  hands 
of  the  gods,  show  no  scruple  in  blaming  them.  Even  the 
pious  Ion  is  offended  when  they  who  make  the  laws  refuse  to 
keep  the  laws.  He  attacks  the  sanctuary  which  guamntees 
impunity  to  the  transgressor.  In  the  "Andromache"  Apollo 
is  accused  of  acting  like  an  evil  man,  in  whom  an  old  quarrel 
rankles  still.  In  the  "Ilippolytus''  we  are  told  that  it  is 
through  boldness  and  violence,  and  not  through  piety,  that 
man  accomplishes  his  end.  In  the  "  Bellerophon  "  wo  are 
told  that  the  weak,  liowever  pious  they  may  be,  have  to  sub- 
mit to  the  strong.  "  There  are  no  gods,"  bo  exclaims;  "they 
have  no  existence." 


HERODOTUS  AND  THUKYDIDES.  305 

It  is  clear  that  only  a  philosophical  spirit  like  this  could 
free  itself  from  the  trammels  of  a  traditional  religion,  often 
indistinguishable  from  superstition.  As  Heracles  says,  in  the 
place  alluded  to  above,  "  the  God  who  is  verily  God  has 
no  wants."  Euripides  is  in  doubt  whether  we  are  to  find  the 
necessity  of  things  in  God  or  in  the  human  spirit.  "  Custom 
and  law  lead  us  to  recognize  the  existence  of  the  gods,  but 
right  and  wrong  owe  their  distinction  to  men."  Nothing  can 
be  more  opposed  to  the  idea  of  the  Eumenides,  as  conceived 
by  ^schylus,  than  the  declaration  of  Orestes  in  the  play  of 
Euripides  that  it  was  his  evil  conscience  that  pursued  him, 
and  that  he  was  fully  aware  of  what  he  had  done.  Justice  is 
the  daughter  of  Time ;  in  due  course  she  brings  all  wicked- 
ness to  light.  Earth  and  heaven  begat  all  things ;  the  earthly 
returns  to  earth,  the  immaterial  to  heaven.  The  happiest 
man  is  he  who  beholds  the  universal  laws  which  rule  imper- 
ishable things. 

One  may  fairly  say  that,  by  this  kind  of  treatment,  legen- 
dary heroic  history,  the  great  intellectual  possession  of  the 
nation,  was  shaken  to  its  foundations  and  all  but  destroyed. 
It  would  have  been  better  to  portray  men  directly,  as  they 
appeared  in  real  life,  than  to  transplant  them,  with  all  their 
actions  and  their  omissions,  into  the  heroic  world.  After  such 
changes  as  these  philosophy  and  history  had  become  indis- 
pensable. 

6.  Herodotus  and  Thukydides, 

Herodotus  and  Thukydides  stand  in  much  the  same  chron- 
ological relation  to  each  other  as  Sophocles  and  Euripides. 
Herodotus  was  the  elder  of  the  two :  according  to  an  ancient 
calculation,  often  disputed  but  never  displaced  by  any  sounder 
hypothesis,  he  was  fifty-three  years  old,  and  Thukydides  forty, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  But  the  situa- 
tions and  fortunes  of  the  two  men  who  laid  the  foundations 
of  historical  science  and  historical  composition  were  widely 
different,  or  rather  were  diametrically  opposed. 

Herodotus  was  born  on  the  coast  of  Asia,  in  a  city  which 
stood  in  close  commercial  and  political  connection  with  the 
Oriental  peoples  to  the  examination  of  whose   history  he 

20 


306  PHILOSOrHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

naturally  devoted  part  of  his  life.  Thence  he  migrated  to 
Samos,  the  great  metropolis  of  trade,  and  afterwards  to 
Athens,  tlien  at  the  climax  of  her  maritime  power,  lie  was 
a  stranger  in  Athens,  but  he  attached  himself  to  the  Athe- 
nians with  his  whole  heart  and  with  warm  admiration.  Thu- 
kydides,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  born  Athenian.  A  man  of 
distinguished  birth,  he  had  attained  to  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant posts  in  the  state,  the  independent  command  of  a  naval 
squadron.  But  he  was  on  one  occasion  unfortunate  enough 
to  allow  the  Peloponnesians  to  forestall  him,  and  to  occu- 
py Amphipolis  about  twenty-four  honrs  before  he  arrived. 
Through  this  failure  he  forfeited  the  favor  of  the  Athenian 
people,  at  that  time  under  the  headlong  guidance  of  a  demo- 
cratic leader.  He  was  punished  by  exile,  and  passed  the  rest 
of  his  life  on  an  hereditary  property  which  belonged  to  him, 
partly  under  the  protection  of  the  Lakedsemonians.  This 
misfortune  enabled  him  to  undertake,  under  peculiarly  advan- 
tageous conditions,  the  history  of  the  war,  a  project  which  he 
had  already  formed  at  the  beginning  of  the  struggle.  No 
longer  confined  to  the  reports  and  narratives  that  passed  cur- 
rent in  his  native  city,  he  was  able  to  form  a  fair  notion  and 
to  give  an  impartial  account  of  the  course  of  affairs.  Though 
an  exile,  his  natural  impulse  was  still  to  give  the  preference 
to  Athens;  though  an  Athenian,  he  had  nevertheless  good 
ground  for  regarding  the  proceedings  of  his  countrymen  with- 
out any  one-sided  patriotism. 

No  less  important  is  the  second  distinction  between  these 
two  great  authors.  Herodotus  spent  his  life  in  watching  the 
mighty  conflict  between  Pereia  and  Greece,  which,  as  lie 
wrote,  occupied  the  attention  of  the  world.  Thukydides  was 
drawn  into  the  thick  of  the  struggle  among  the  Greeks  them- 
selves, and  especially  that  between  Athens  and  Sparta.  It  is 
true  that  the  internal  rivalries  of  Greece  are  mentioned  by 
Herodotus,  while  the  conflict  between  Greeks  and  Persians  is 
referred  to  by  Thukydides,  but  in  Herodotus  the  former,  in 
Thukydides  the  latter,  is  kept  in  the  background.  Herodotus 
bestowed  especial  attention  on  the  joint  effort  abroad,  Thu- 
kydides on  the  internecine  conflict  at  home. 

Herodotus  was  primarily  a  traveller.    His  native  city,  Hall- 


HERODOTUS.  307 

carnassnS)  took  part  in  founding  the  commercial  settlement  at 
Kaucratis,  through  which  the  trade  with  Egypt  was  thrown 
open  to  the  Greeks.  One  may  suppose  that  it  was  this  con- 
nection which  first  attracted  the  gaze  of  Herodotus  to  Egypt, 
and  which  afterwards  secured  him  a  favorable  reception  in 
that  country  even  when  the  connection  had  ceased  to  exist. 
He  was  the  first  foreigner  who  bestowed  on  the  monuments 
of  Egypt  the  attention  they  deserved ;  he  visited  Phoenicia 
and  beheld  the  wonders  of  Babylon  ;  by  the  great  road  which 
leads  from  Ephesus  to  Sardis,  and  from  Sardis  to  Susa,  he 
penetrated  to  the  interior  of  the  Persian  empire,  and  went  as 
far  as  Ecbatana.  And  yet  the  East  did  not  draw  him  into  the 
circle  of  her  votaries,  as  some  time  afterwards  she  attracted 
Ctesias.  Herodotus  never  shut  his  eyes  to  the  superiority  of 
the  Greeks,  and  never  forgot  that  he  was  a  Greek  himself. 
His  descriptions  of  the  coasts  and  landscapes  of  Greece  are  so 
accurate  that  it  is  easy  to  perceive  he  must  have  seen  most  of 
them  with  his  own  eyes.  In  Athens  he  felt  himself,  as  it 
were,  at  home,*  for  his  native  city,  while  paying  tribute  to 
the  Great  King,  had  a  close  political  connection  with  Athens. 

*  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  Herodotus  about  the  year  444  spent  a 
considerable  time  at  Athens.  Hence,  perhaps,  we  may  explain  certain 
verses  in  tlie  "  Antigone"  of  Sophocles  which  imply  an  acquaintance  with 
the  works  and  views  of  Herodotus.  In  accordance  with  this  is  the  notice 
in  Eusebius  ("  Chron."sub.  Olymp.  83, 4=445-4  B.C.)  that  Herodotus  had 
read  his  history  publicly  in  Athens  and  been  honored  there.  Now  an 
ancient  historian  named  Diyllus,  not  without  value  as  respects  Athenian 
liistory,  relates  that  Herodotus  received  ten  talents,  by  vote  of  the  ecclesia, 
from  the  city  of  Athens.  "We  are  not  told  the  reason  of  this  gift,  which 
may  have  been  by  way  of  compensation  for  losses  incurred  in  leaving 
Halicarnassus,  or  by  way  of  assistance,  as  ho  was  about  to  go  with  a 
colony  to  Thurii.  It  certainly  cannot  have  been  intended  as  payment  for 
flattering  views  of  Athenian  policy  to  be  inserted  in  his  history.  In  the 
book  Trepl  Ttjg  'UpoSorov  KaicorjGeaig,  attributed  to  Plutarch,  through  which 
we  know  of  this  passage  from  Diyllus,  a  protest  is  made  against  such  a 
supposition,  on  the  ground  that  there  is  much  in  the  history  of  Herodotus 
which  must  have  displeased  the  Athenians.  This  little  work  is  very  un- 
just to  Herodotus,  and  excessively  calumnious,  but  it  declares  outright 
that  the  hypothesis  in  question  is  a  slander :  tovto  (3or]9el  r<p  'HjOoWry  Trpdg 
l^dvrjv  TijV  dia(3o\i]P,  rjv  txoi  KoXaKEixrag  Tovg  'AOrjvaiovg,  apyvpiov  ttoXv  \a(3eiv 
Trap  avTuv  (chap.  26). 


308  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

Thus  Herodotus  obtained  a  pei-sonal  acquaintance  witli  all  the 
districts  which  made  up  the  civilized  world  of  his  day.  He 
was  led  to  visit  them  by  an  innate  impulse  towards  self- 
instiTiction,  and  we  can  easily  see  how  his  zeal  for  knowledge 
attended  him  from  place  to  place. 

Tlie  work  in  which  Herodotus  put  together  the  results  of 
his  inquiries  forms  in  itself  an  element  in  the  history  of  the 
century.  In  the  author's  mind  are  reflected  all  sorts  of 
national  peculiarities,  for  wherever  he  went  he  made  inquiries 
about  the  country  and  the  people,  and  the  reports  he  obtained 
lie  side  by  side  in  his  book.  The  ethnographical  information 
which  we  owe  to  him  is  of  itself  of  great  value,  but  its  im- 
portance is  doubled  by  the  historical  element  with  which  it  is 
woven  into  a  single  whole. 

His  informants,  of  course,  knew  little  of  the  past  beyond 
the  memory  of  living  men.  It  is  easy  to  perceive  from  his 
remarks  about  the  Assyrian  empire  that  Herodotus,  anxious 
as  he  was  to  write  about  Assyrian  history,  was  but  slightly 
instructed  on  the  matter.  Had  he  known  more  about  it  he 
would  have  considerably  modified  his  notions  about  the  con- 
nection between  Egypt  and  Assyria  under  the  Saitic  dynasty. 
But  the  fact  was  that  Assyria  had  already  been  forgotten  by 
the  contemporaries  of  Herodotus,  whose  recollections  were 
absorbed  by  the  rise  of  Persia  and  by  the  undertakings  of  the 
Persian  kings.  As  to  the  origin  of  the  Persian  empire  noth- 
ing but  legendary  reports  existed,  which  Herodotus  transmits 
to  us  in  the  shape  in  which  he  received  them  from  the  Per- 
sians and  Egyptians. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  hostile  collision  of  Persia  and 
Greece  was  fresh  in  the  memor}'  of  all.  The  great  decisive 
battles  had  long  been  fought,  and  Herodotus  can  hardly  have 
had  any  personal  recollection  of  them,  but  their  effects  were 
still  perceptible  and  determined  the  mutual  relations  of  the 
East  and  the  Grecian  world.  The  forces  on  both  sides  had 
all  been  set  in  motion  by  that  conflict,  and  measured  against 
each  other.  On  the  Persian  invasion  of  Greece,  its  failure, 
and  the  measures  of  retaliation  taken  by  the  Greeks,  rested 
the  existing  condition  of  the  world.  These  events  then  formed 
another  subject  for  the  inquiries  of  Herodotus.     To  combine 


HERODOTUS.  309 

them  with  the  rest  of  his  information  and  to  present  the 
whole  in  its  proper  connection  was  the  worthiest  aim  that  he 
could  set  before  him.  The  result  was  the  first  real  history 
that  was  e%^er  written.  History  could  not  grow  up  on  national 
ground  alone,  for  it  is  not  till  they  come  into  contact  with  one 
another  that  nations  become  conscious  of  their  own  existence. 
It  is  then,  too,  that  a  writer  of  wide  sympathies  can  do  jus- 
tice, as  Herodotus  does,  to  both  the  conflicting  nationalities. 
Herodotus  has  no  liatred  for  the  barbarians,  or  he  would 
not  have  taken  pains  to  depict  them.  He  has  often  been 
accused  of  partiality  towards  Athens.  The  favorable  judg- 
ment he  passes  on  her  conduct  in  the  Persian  war  has  been 
attributed  to  personal  motives.  But  I  am  not  inclined  to 
agree  with  this  view.  The  famous  passage  in  which  he  points 
out  that  the  salvation  of  Greece  was  due  to  the  resolution  of 
the  Athenians  to  defend  themselves  by  sea  is  strictly  and 
clearly  true.  The  facts  are  as  Herodotus  states  them.  The  no- 
tion he  had  formed  of  what  would  beyond  all  doubt  have  taken 
place,  had  not  the  Athenians  acted  as  they  did,  inspired  him 
to  write  that  passage,  which,  regarded  as  a  piece  of  historical 
and  political  criticism,  is  perhaps  the  best  in  the  whole  work. 
Not  only  is  there  an  incomparable  charm  in  the  graceful 
simplicity  with  which  Herodotus  relates  separate  events,  but 
he  possesses  also  a  sympathetic  insight  into  the  relations  of 
universal  history.  His  work  has  never  been  equalled,  much 
less  excelled,  in  the  grandeur  of  its  combinations.  At  the 
same  time  it  cannot,  of  course,  be  said  to  satisfy  all  the  condi- 
tions of  a  perfect  historical  work.  All  that  Herodotus  tells 
us  rests  on  oral  tradition,  and  the  main  subject  of  his  book  is 
an  event  which  took  place  several  decades  before,  with  which 
he  was  acquainted  only  at  second-hand,  and  for  which  trust- 
worthy authorities  were  not  everywhere  to  be  found.  An- 
other service  had  yet  to  be  performed — the  presentation  of  an 
event  which  had  actually  taken  place  before  the  author's  eyes. 
Such  a  narrative  could  afford  to  dispense  with  oral  tradition 
respecting  earlier  epochs,  which  always  rests  upon  a  basis  com- 
paratively insecure.  For  the  charm  of  a  general  survey  of 
past  times  was  now  to  be  substituted  a  minute  and  accurate 
description  of  contemporary  events. 


310  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

Herein  lies  the  great  merit  of  Thukydides.  The  subject 
of  his  work  is  not  a  struggle  embracing  the  whole  area  of  the 
known  world,  but  a  conflict  between  two  republics,  each  in 
its  way  of  the  highest  importance.  From  the  moment  when 
their  smouldering  resentment  broke  into  open  hostility  Thu- 
kydides  watched  the  course  of  the  struggle  with  the  full  in- 
tention of  describing  what  he  saw. 

The  tasks  which  Herodotus  and  Thukydides  respectively 
performed  are  of  so  inconsistent  a  nature  that  they  could  not 
have  been. executed  by  one  man.  Their  execution  required 
two  authors  of  different  character  and  different  gifts.  Each 
of  these  historians  expresses  views  corresponding  to  his  cir- 
cumstances and  his  time.  In  his  commerce  with  different 
nationalities,  during  which  he  always  paid  special  attention  to 
religious  matters,  Herodotus  conceived  ideas  unlike  those 
which  passed  current  among  the  Greeks.  As  an  historian  he 
raises  objections  to  the  fabulous  stories  about  the  gods.  In 
his  opinion  the  ancient  Pelasgians,  and  after  them  the  Hel- 
lenes, used  to  worship  the  gods  without  distinction  of  name. 
The  names  of  the  gods  were  afterwards  introduced  from 
Egypt  into  Greece.  The  historian  was  informed  at  Dodona 
that  the  oracle  had  once  been  formally  asked  whether  these 
names  should  be  recognized,  and  had  approved  tlieir  recogni- 
tion ;  that  in  later  times  Homer  and  Hesiod  had  attached 
titles  to  the  gods,  determined  their  respective  occupations, 
and  invented  the  theogony  ;  but  that  all  this  was,  so  to  speak, 
a  thing  of  3'esterday ;  at  all  events  not  to  be  compared  in 
respect  of  antiquity  with  the  ancient  faith  of  the  Egyptians. 

Not  only  had  Herodotus  visited  Dodona,  but  he  was  also 
acquainted  with  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  and  had  been  initi- 
ated into  those  of  the  Cabeiri  in  Lemnos.  With  respect  to 
the  latter  he  imposes  silence  on  himself,  but  now  and  then  ho 
hints  that,  behind  the  belief  in  the  gods,  which  the  ceremo- 
nies implied,  there  was  something  whicli  he  neither  could  nor 
would  divulge.  This  does  not,  however,  lead  him  to  deny 
the  existence  of  gods  and  heroes.  On  the  contrary,  ho  is 
afraid  that  his  remarks  about  them  may  arouse  their  animos- 
ity. If  ho  disputes  the  truth  of  a  story  about  Heracles,  lie 
begs  tlie  gods  and  lierocs  to  pardon  his  presumption.     It  ap- 


HERODOTUS.  311 

pears,  therefore,  that  he  has  no  doubts  about  the  existence 
and  the  reality  of  the  gods.  But  lie  repeats  the  doctrine  that 
even  they  cannot  escape  from  fate,  which  lies,  according  to 
him,  beyond  their  control.  He  enters  into  no  details  respect- 
ing the  dealings  of  particular  gods,  but  he  recognizes  the  ex- 
istence of  a  divine  power,  which  exerts  a  constant  and  pene- 
trating influence  on  human  affairs. 

With  respect  to  this  influence,  two  ideas  of  Herodotus  call 
for  special  notice.  On  the  one  hand,  the  gods  give  their  sup- 
port to  courage  and  understanding,  but  on  the  other  they  pur- 
sue with  a  sort  of  envy  all  that  is  pre-eminent.  Any  one  who 
reads  Herodotus  attentively  for  some  little  time,  and  surren- 
ders himself  to  the  general  impression  produced  as  the  author 
passes  from  one  point  to  another,  will  perceive  the  one  con- 
stant element  to  be  a  belief  in  the  direct  interference  of  the 
Deity.  Herodotus  venerates  the  gods  as  beings  of  real  po- 
tency, revenging  themselves  on  the  man  who  insults  them, 
even  unintentionally,  announcing  their  will  by  means  of  ora- 
cles, and  accomplishing  it  without  fail.  Such  was  the  belief 
of  ^schylus,  such,  in  the  main,  the  belief  of  Euripides,  who 
upbraids  the  gods  with  their  acts  of  injustice  and  violence. 
The  gods,  indeed,  rule  the  human  world,  but  their  power  is 
not  absolute.  We  see  traces  of  a  yet  deeper  and  older  relig- 
ion in  the  idea  of  Nemesis,  whom  Herodotus  recognizes  even 
where  men  in  general  fail  to  perceive  her  power. 

The  divergence  between  the  relicrious  views  of  Herodotus 
and  those  of  Thukydides  has  attracted  attention  from  early 
times.  This  divergence  does  not  amount  to  a  direct  contra- 
diction,* for  this  would  have  implied  the  resuscitation  of  those 

*  The  hcus  dasaicm  (Herod,  i.  23),  in  which  a  writer  as  early  as  Lucian 
fancied  he  found  cause  to  blame  Herodotus,  can  be  explained  as  having 
no  reference  to  religion.  It  may  be  regarded  simply  as  the  expression 
of  an  historical  conviction  with  respect  to  the  course  of  human  affairs, 
and  the  writer  does  not  appear  to  have  had  any  doctrinal  end  in  view. 
In  the  passage  of  Lucian  referred  to  the  author's  own  opinion  is  the  most 
important  matter.  He  transcribes  only  the  words  that  suit  his  views, 
and  explains  them  in  his  own  way  (ttwc  ^"  taropjav  tri/yypa^etv,  chap.  42)* 
One  cannot  help  being  reminded  at  this  point  of  the  story  of  Herodotus's 
public  reading  at  Olympia.     I  hold  it  to  be  an  invention  of  the  rhctori- 


312  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

ideas  of  antiquity  about  the  gods  whicli  were  rejected  by  He- 
rodotus. But  Thukydides  was  under  the  influence  of  the  uni- 
versal tendency  to  which  we  find  the  poets  giving  expression, 
and  by  means  of  which  faith  in  the  gods  was  undermined  or 
even  destroyed.  Like  the  poets,  he  recognized  something  di- 
vine pervading  human  things.  He  complains  that  men  com- 
bine together  not  to  maintain  the  laws  of  God,  but  to  break 
them.  He  speaks  with  disapproval  of  a  growing  want  of  piety. 
But  he  shows  no  trace  of  the  idea  that  the  gods  interfere  di- 
rectly in  human  affairs.  It  is  true  that  he  does  not  deny  the 
authority  of  oracles  in  so  many  words — he  even  adduces  evi- 
dence which  might  be  held  to  justify  a  belief  in  prophecy ; 
but,  with  regard  to  such  matters,  he  constantly  maintains  a 
sceptical  attitude.  For  example,  when  an  earthquake  in  Lak- 
edaemon  is  attributed  to  the  violation  of  a  sanctuary,  to  which 
some  Helots  had  fled  for  refuge,  he  relates  the  fact,  but  with- 
out giving  the  slightest  hint  that  he  believes  in  the  explana- 
tion. He  was  not  unaffected  by  the  growth  of  natural  sci- 
ence. It  is  with  a  certain  irony  that  he  mentions  the  belief 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Lipari  that  the  smithy  of  Hephaestus 
was  in  their  island.  He  has  very  different  notions  about  the 
smoke  which  they  see  by  day  and  the  flames  that  ascend  by 
night.  If  on  any  occasion  natural  phenomena  are  allowed  to 
influence  the  decisions  of  mankind,  he  comments  on  the  fact 
with  disapproval.  A  characteristic  example  of  this  attitude 
of  mind  is  to  be  found  in  his  remarks  on  the  curse  which  was 
supposed  to  be  laid  on  the  appropriation  of  the  so-called  Pe- 
lasgikon  at  Athens  for  the  purpose  of  human  habitation.  He 
rejects  the  idea  that  subsequent  misfortunes  were  due  to  dis- 
regard of  this  curse,  and  in  the  curse  itself  he  sees  nothing 
but  a  prevision  that  the  spot  would  not  be  used  for  such  a 
purpose  except  under  disastrous  circumstances. 

The  real  advance  made  by  Thukydides  consists,  perhaps, 
in  this,  that  ho  perceived  the  motive  forces  of  human  history 
to  lie  in  the  moral  constitution  of  human  nature.     To  estab- 

clons,  of  whom  Lucinn  himself  was  one.  These  people  travelled  from 
town  to  town,  lecturing  as  they  went,  and  Herodotus  is  made  out  to 
ba?e  done  the  same. 


THUKYDIDEa  313 

lish  tliis  we  need  not  have  recourse  to  passages  bearing  on  the 
subject  which  he  weaves  into  his  speeches,  for  these  speeches 
are  framed  in  accordance  with  the  character  of  the  speaker. 
But  now  and  then  he  makes  in  his  own  person  observations 
on  human  affairs.  He  declares  that  such  and  such  an  event 
is  due  to  the  dominion  of  passion  over  human  nature ;  that 
men  contemn  what  is  right,  and  cannot  bear  anything  supe- 
rior; that  the  furious  longing  for  revenge  is  a  still  greater 
evil ;  that  the  man  who  yields  to  such  passions  violates  the 
very  laws  by  which  he  is  protected,  and  provokes  his  own  de- 
struction. He  traces  the  origin  of  all  disorder  in  the  cities 
of  Greece  to  the  greed  of  those  in  power.  It  is  generally, 
says  he,  nothing  but  a  pretext  when  men  talk  of  the  blessings 
of  moderate  aristocracy  or  of  democratic  equality ;  their  in- 
tention is  only  to  get  the  better  of  their  opponents ;  a  virtu- 
ous reputation  is  of  far  less  account  than  shrewdness  and  cun- 
ning. National  misfortunes  on  the  one  side,  and  on  the  other 
complications  resulting  from  war,  give  occasion  for  all  such 
hypocrisy,  and  bring  fresh  evils  in  their  train. 

Man  himself,  especially  in  his  vices  and  his  sufferings,  is 
the  central  figure  in  the  history  of  Thukydides.  From  this 
point  of  view  he  stands  in  much  the  same  relation  to  Herodo- 
tus as  that  in  which  Euripides  stands  to  Sophocles,  or  rather 
to  -^schylus.  But  the  change  in  the  case  of  Thukydides  is 
easier  to  justify  than  in  the  case  of  the  poet,  for,  while  trag- 
edy cannot  be  conceived  as  existing  without  fiction,  history 
takes  man  himself  for  its  subject.  One  of  its  essential  condi- 
tions is  that  it  should  grasp  human  affairs  as  they  are — should 
comprehend  them,  and  make  them  intelligible.  Thukydides 
strips  off  all  that  is  legendary  and  fictitious,  and  claims  special 
credit  for  having  done  his  best  to  discover  the  truth  about 
events  exactly  as  they  came  to  pass.  The  miraculous,  which 
has  such  charm  for  Herodotus,  disappears  in  Thukydides  be- 
hind the  unadorned  fact.  The  tone  of  his  narrative  is  some- 
times as  simple  as  that  of  a  chronicle ;  it  impresses  one  as  at 
once  trustworthy  and  intelligent.  Although  he  owed  his 
security  to  the  Lakedgemonians,  it  is  impossible  to  reproach 
him  with  Laconian  proclivities.  It  was  his  nature  to  do  jus- 
tice to  both  sides.     Scrupulous  adhesion  to  the  simple  truth, 


314  PHILOSOPHY   AND  LITERATURE. 

and  the  confinement  of  his  investigations  to  liuman  projects, 
give  to  his  history,  for  the  short  period  of  which  it  treats,  a 
clearness  of  outline  and  a  vividness  of  descriptive  power  which 
demand  our  highest  admiration. 

The  narrative  of  Thukydides  is  throughout  annalistic  in 
character.  Accurate  chronology  is  especially  to  his  taste; 
he  arranges  every  event  under  the  summer  or  winter  in  which 
it  happened.  He  includes  in  his  survey  many  events  which 
might  seem  to  others  unimportant,  for  his  intention  is  to  give 
an  exact  account  of  what  took  place.  But  in  this  chronolog- 
ical order  are  visible  certain  lines  of  development  which,  from 
time  to  time,  are  brought  into  prominence,  so  that  the  read- 
er's attention  is  constantly  directed  to  what  is  general  as  well 
as  to  details.  The  merit  of  the  narrative  varies  according  to 
its  subject.  In  one  place  Thukydides  relates  all  the  political 
movements  and  discussions  connected  with  the  quarrel  be- 
tween Argos  and  Lakedsemon  in  so  monotonous  a  style  that 
the  story  hardly  awakens  even  a  moderate  interest.  Then 
comes  the  battle  of  Mantineia,  which  he  depicts  with  special 
reference  to  the  habits  and  military  skill  of  the  Lakedsemo- 
nians.  He  tells  us  w^here  his  information  is  at  fault,  and 
thereby  inspires  us  w^ith  confidence  in  what  he  bids  us  be- 
lieve. He  discusses  the  conduct  of  every  single  troop  and 
every  national  division  in  turn,  and  yet  never  allows  the  read- 
er's attention  to  wander.  The  description  of  the  fight  itself 
is  not  to  be  surpassed.  It  is  intelligible  in  all  its  complica- 
tions. The  Spartan  king,  full  of  eagerness  to  disprove  the 
reproaches  to  which  his  former  conduct  has  given  occasion, 
pressing  impatiently  forward,  then  restraining  his  ardor  and 
arranging  his  troops  for  the  fight,  presents  a  figure  notable  in 
the  annals  of  military  history.  The  impartiality  of  Thukyd- 
ides leads  him  to  be  circumstantial.  In  Herodotus  such  a 
result  could  hardly  liavc  been  attained,  for  with  him  the  gods 
play  too  great  a  part.  Thukydides,  on  the  contrary,  brings 
before  us  human  action  pure  and  simple,  although  ho  does 
not  omit  to  relate  that  a  I^kedremonian  army  is  sometimes 
disbanded  merely  because  the  sacrifices  at  the  frontier  prove 
unfavorable. 

It  is  quite  in  accordance  with  bis  style  that  he  should  give 


THUKYDIDES.  315 

US  the  differeut  treaties,  even  when  comparatively  unimpor- 
tant, not  only  word  for  word,  but  in  the  very  dialect  in  which 
they  were  drawn  up.  Yet,  with  all  this  exactness  of  detail, 
we  come  upon  a  difficulty  the  mention  of  which  cannot  be 
avoided  in  this  place.  How  are  we  to  explain  the  fact  that 
Thukydides  does  not  reproduce  word  for  word  the  letter 
which  Nikias  wrote  home  to  Athens  concerning  the  state  of 
affairs  in  Sicily,  but  interpolates  another,  in  which  the  matter 
is  set  forth  more  concisely  ?  And,  further,  what  are  we  to 
say  about  the  authenticity  of  the  speeches,  which  constitute, 
perhaps,  the  most  excellent  portion  of  his  book  ?  Were  they 
really  spoken  as  he  transmits  them  to  us? 

It  is  evident,  to  say  the  least,  that  the  speeches  arc  remark- 
ably suited  to  the  purpose  which  the  author  had  in  view  in 
writing  history.  The  speech  of  the  Corinthians  at  Sparta,  in 
the  first  book,  is  for  the  most  part  a  comparison  between 
Athens  and  Lakedaemon.  Nothing  could  be  more  service- 
able to  the  student  of  history  at  the  opening  of  a  work  which 
depicts  the  struggle  between  these  two  cities.  The  subse- 
quent oration  of  Pericles  dwells  chiefly  on  the  superiority  of 
naval  over  land  forces.  This  superiority  had  great  effect  on 
the  course  of  affairs,  and  is  therefore  very  suitably  placed  in 
the  foreground.  Nevertheless,  in  both  these  speeches  the 
motive  forces,  which  were  of  real  importance  in  determining 
the  general  position,  are  explained  with  striking  correctness. 
The  speech  of  the  Mytileneans  at  Olympia,  and  the  speech  of 
Cleon  about  the  revolt  of  Lesbos,  when  taken  together,  throw 
abundant  light  upon  the  incompatibility  which  disturbed  the 
relations  between  the  sovereign  state  of  Athens  and  the  most 
powerful  of  her  allies.  But  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether 
Cleon  actually  spoke  as  he  is  here  reported  to  have  done. 
At  all  events,  a  political  culture,  such  as  is  displayed  by  the 
speech  in  question,  is  not  elsewhere  attributed  to  the  dema- 
gogue. 

In  the  deliberations  which  preceded  the  expedition  to  Sic- 
ily Thukydides  has  taken  more  pains  to  bring  to  light  the 
reasons  which  lay  at  the  root  of  the  matter  than  the  personal 
motives  which  actually  led  to  the  passing  of  the  resolution. 
It  is  notorious  that  Diodorus,  a  very  respectable  author,  as- 


316  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

cribes  to  Nikias  a  speech  on  the  proposal  to  attack  Syracuse, 
which  differs  widely  from  that  which  Thukydides  attributes 
to  him,  but  which  is,  nevertheless,  on  the  whole,  much  to  the 
point.  Finally,  Ave  can  scarcely  believe  that  the  long  dialogue 
between  the  Athenians  and  the  Melians,  in  which  the  latter 
insist  on  their  independence  and  the  former  demand  submis- 
sion and  entrance  into  their  league,  is  word  for  word  true. 
The  principles  on  which  both  parties  rely  are  matters  of  uni- 
versal history;  on  the  side  of  the  Athenians  they  are  the 
same  as  those  applied  to  defend  the  expedition  against  Syra- 
cuse. The  peculiarity  of  the  discussion  consists  in  the  dialec- 
tical form  in  which  the  arguments  on  either  side  are  cast. 

It  is  true  that  the  attention  of  Thukydides  is  chiefly  direct- 
ed towards  Athens,  but  it  is  a  mark  of  his  superiority  as  an 
historian  that  he  has  formed  clear  conceptions  about  her  oppo- 
nents. He  uses  the  speeches  as  a  means  of  expressing  these 
conceptions.  In  the  excellent  speeches  of  Brasidas  are  to  be 
found  views  the  scope  of  which  extends  far  beyond  contem- 
porary affairs.  ITor  is  less  approbation  due  to  the  speech  of 
Hermocrates,  who  predicts  the  failure  of  the  Athenian  expe- 
dition against  Syracuse  from  causes  similar  to  those  which 
frustrated  the  Persian  expedition  against  Greece,  and  em- 
braces in  his  survey  the  attitude  maintained  by  Carthage  and 
the  resources  of  that  power.  We  can  appreciate  the  breadth 
of  view  which  these  remarks  imply,  but  we  may  well  ask 
how  it  was  possible  for  Thukydides  to  obtain  accurate  ac- 
counts of  the  speeches  on  either  side  which  were  made  in 
Syracuse,  or  of  that  other  oration  which  Demosthenes  ad- 
dressed to  the  troops  at  Pylos.  The  description  of  the  con- 
flict at  Pylos  is  a  gem  of  historical  writing,  but  it  would  be 
hazardous  to  suppose  that  the  speeches  which  animated  the 
combatants  have  been  literally  reproduced.  It  is  through 
these  speeches  that  we  gain  an  insight  into  the  hidden  con- 
trasts which  set  in  motion  the  Hellenic  world.  These  con- 
trasts are  depicted  with  a  luminous  accuracy  in  which  all  that 
is  hypothetical  is  avoided.  The  historian  has  no  theories  to 
propound,  and  the  reader  becomes  so  much  the  more  convers- 
ant with  realities.  It  must,  however,  bo  allowed  that  in  the 
speeches  there  is  a  departure  from  exact  truth,  for  the  per- 


INTELLECTUAL  LIFE  IN  ATHENS.  317 

sonal  views  of  the  historian  appear  in  the  guise  of  history. 
It  is  a  moment  in  which  the  science  of  history  and  the  science 
of  rhetoric,  then  flourishing  at  Athens,  unite  their  forces. 

The  master  from  whom  Thukydides  learned  the  latter  art 
was  Antiphon,  of  whom  we  have  already  spoken.  Thukyd- 
ides says  of  him  that  he  was  a  man  the  vigor  of  whose 
thought  was  only  equalled  by  the  vigor  of  his  diction.  These 
words  are  exactly  applicable  to  the  speeches  of  Thukydides. 
It  is  well  known  that  they  were  considered  masterpieces  of 
eloquence,  and  that  they  were  studied  by  Demosthenes.  Thu- 
kydides is  at  once  orator  and  historian,  but  he  keeps  the  two 
arts  distinct.  While  banishing  rhetoric  from  his  narrative, 
in  his  speeches  he  allows  it  full  play.  The  union  of  the  two 
characters  was  in  such  close  agreement  with  the  public  life  of 
antiquity  that  it  was  imitated  by  later  historians,  and,  although 
it  often  degenerated  in  after-times  into  mere  display,  may  be 
said  to  be  tlie  chief  characteristic  of  ancient  historiography. 

7.  Intellectual  Life  in  Athens, 

There  is  something  almost  miraculous  in  this  simultaneous, 
or  nearly  simultaneous,  appearance  of  such  different  types  of 
genius,  accomplishing,  in  poetry,  philosophy,  and  history,  the 
greatest  feats  wliich  the  human  mind  has  ever  performed. 
Each  is  original,  and  strikes  out  his  own  line,  but  all  work  in 
harmony.  By  one  or  other  of  these  masters  are  set  forth  all 
the  greatest  problems  concerning  things  divine  and  human. 
Athens  rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  a  theatre  the  like  of 
which,  whether  for  sport  or  earnest,  has  never  been  seen  in 
any  other  city.  The  people  lived  in  constant  enjoyment  of 
the  noblest  dramatic  productions.  Sophocles  was  not  dispos- 
sessed by  Euripides :  their  works  appeared  at  the  same  time 
upon  the  stage.  The  history  of  Herodotus  was  read  aloud  in 
public  meetings.  Thukydides  was  reserved  for  more  private 
study,  but  his  works  had  a  wide  circulation  in  writing.  A 
high  standard  of  culture  is  implied  in  the  fact  that  the  Demos 
was  as  capable  of  following  the  speeches  of  Pericles,  and  of 
arriving  at  decisions  about  the  hardest  political  questions,  as 
of  giving  a  verdict  in  the  transactions  of  tlie  Heliaea. 

This  democracy  permitted  greater  freedom  of  discussion 


318  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

than  was  to  be  found  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  It  attract- 
ed men  of  similar  aims  from  the  colonies  in  the  East  and  in 
the  West,  and  guaranteed  to  all  a  safe  asylum.  As  Herodotus 
migrated  thither  from  Halicarnassus,  so  did  Anaxagoras  from 
Clazomenae.  In  his  own  home  he  found  himself  so  cramped 
that  he  abandoned  all  his  interests  there  and  came  to  Athens. 
Her  increasing  greatness  offei;ed  him  an  infinite  prospect,  for 
a  state  whose  power  has  reached  its  zenith  has  less  attraction 
for  an  ambitious  spirit  than  one  whose  power  is  not  yet  fully 
grown.  In  Athens  Anaxagoras  found  a  sphere  of  influence 
such  as  he  needed.  We  have  already  touched  upon  his  rela- 
tions with  Pericles,  and  certainly  his  doctrines  deserved  to 
obtain  a  hearing. 

Empedocles,  as  we  have  seen,  traced  all  motion  to  Hate  and 
Love  in  primary  matter — that  is,  to  its  own  internal  im- 
pulses. But  Anaxagoras  found  this  explanation  insufficient, 
and  refused  to  believe  that  a  settled  order  of  the  world  could 
be  produced  by  the  motion  of  the  elements.  It  appears  to 
have  been  chiefly  due  to  this  observation  that  he  arrived  at 
the  idea  of  an  omnipotent  Mind.  This  mind,  as  the  origin  of 
all  motion,  he  opposed  to  matter — a  fresh  departure  of  sucli 
universal  import  that  it  announced  a  totally  new  system  of 
thinking.  "  The  Mind,"  says  Anaxagoras,  "  is  infinite,  self-con- 
trolling, unmixed.  It  lives  of  itself.  It  is  a  simple  essence 
possessing  power  and  knowledge.  It  has  ordained  all  that 
was,  is,  and  is  to  be."  These  are  great  thoughts,  through 
which  philosophy,  following  the  lines  once  adopted,  accepting 
here  and  rejecting  there,  proceeding  from  one  reflection  to 
another,  at  last  reaches  the  idea  of  the  unity  of  God,  who, 
however,  is  not  the  Creator,  but  the  indwelling  Euler  of  the 
universe.*  Anaxagoras  is  said  to  have  declared  the  object  of 
human  life  to  be  the  observation  and  knowledge  of  the 
Iieavenly  bodies.  He  was  a  physicist  and  an  astronomer; 
in  regarding  the  sun  and  moon  as  bodies  of  the  nature  of 


♦  The  God  of  Anaxagoras  lias  the  same  relation  to  things  as  the  soul 
to  living  beings.  It  is  characteristic  that  the  hypothesis  of  the  voPp  was 
regarded  as  a  last  resource  ijarav  dirSpfivy^  rdrt  irapiXKti  r6v  vovv,  Arist. 
"Metoph.'M.  4,  p.  985  a). 


EARLY  PHILOSOPHERS.  319 

worlds — in  fact,  resembling  the  earth — he  offended  popular 
prejudices,  but  liad  thinking  men  on  his  side.  Anaxagoras 
attached  to  himself  both  Euripides  and  Thukydides,  and  in 
their  writings,  especially  in  those  of  the  former,  we  find  the 
ideas  of  this  philosopher  reproduced. 

The  masters  of  philosophy  and  rhetoric,  attracted  by  the 
political  supremacy  of  Athens,  were  already  migrating  thither 
from  Italy  and  Sicily.  Among  them  the  Eleatics  Zeno  and 
Parmenides  are  mentioned.  The  teaching  of  philosophy 
was  closely  connected  with  the  art  of  logic  and  rhetoric, 
which  made  its  way  in  like  manner  from  Sicily.  Athens, 
in  fact,  became  the  very  centre  and  home  of  the  Greek  in- 
tellect. 

In  order  to  appreciate  the  intellectual  greatness  of  Athens 
we  must  remember  that  Polygnotus,Pheidias,  and  Ictinus,  the 
architect  of  the  Parthenon,  were  all  living  at  Athens  at  this 
time.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Greek  art  was  based  upon 
Egyptian,  but  it  had  a  peculiar  development  of  its  own. 
Greek  plastic  art  is  the  offspring  of  Greek  gymnastics.  Take, 
for  example,  the  ^ginetan  marbles,  preserved  to  us  by  a 
happy  fate  from  the  earliest  times.  On  the  pediment  of  a 
temple  of  Athene  in  ^gina  are  represented  scenes  out  of 
the  Trojan  war.  In  the  midst  of  the  combatants,  struggling 
over  the  bodies  of  the  Grecian  dead,  appears  Athene,  in  all 
the  severe  dignity  of  the  ancient  style.  The  combatants  are 
copied  immediately  from  life.  Some  traces  of  Egyptian 
stiffness  have  been  observed,  but  in  general  the  nude  figures, 
in  their  vigorous  movement  and  in  the  way  they  handle  their 
weapons,  are  life-like  even  to  individuality.  It  is  otherwise 
with  the  features  of  the  face.  The  facial  proportions  are 
incorrectly  given  ;  the  eyes  are  too  prominent,  and  the  corners 
of  the  mouth  are  drawn  upwards :  but  this  may,  perhaps,  be 
defended  on  the  ground  that  an  individual  elaboration  of  the 
heads  and  faces  would  have  been  out  of  place  in  such  a  scene. 
The  general  aspect  of  the  struggle  was  the  matter  of  most 
importance.  Unity  of  style  is  visible  throughout ;  all  is  fresh 
and  original ;  and  the  spectator  is  impressed  with  a  sense 
that  he  is  in  the  very  presence  of  the  ancient  world.  In  the 
same  place  where  these  figures  are  now  preserved  are  to  be 


320  PHILOSOPHY   AND  LITEEATURE. 

found  some  specimens  of  Egyptian  sculpture.  Physiological 
observers  tell  us  that  they  appear  to  have  been  copied  from 
models  resembling  skeletons  ;  but  the  Greeks  copied  the  liv- 
ing man,  in  all  the  fulness  of  life  and  energy. 

These  monuments  belong,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  to  the  pe- 
riod before  the  Persian  wars.  After  the  Persian  wars  the  tri- 
umphs of  that  epoch  took  the  place  of  the  memories  of  Troy. 
But,  like  the  latter,  they  were  still  treated  as  the  immediate 
results  of  divine  interference.  The  combination  of  the  wor- 
ship of  the  gods  with  courageous  resistance  to  the  foreign 
invader  is  the  chief  characteristic  of  these  sculptures.  We 
have  already  mentioned  the  group  of  thirteen  figures  in 
bronze,  which  the  Athenians  presented  as  a  thank-offering  to 
the  Delphic  shrine,  representing  the  gods  of  the  country  and 
of  the  Athenian  clans,  and  in  their  midst  Miltiades,  the  hero 
of  Marathon.  There  is  something  noble  in  the  conception  of 
victory,  as  at  once  a  triumph  for  men  and  for  the  gods,  wliich 
is  manifested  here.  The  same  idea  is  expressed  in  the  colos- 
sal statue  of  Athene  Promachos,  which  Kimon  commissioned 
Pheidias  to  set  up.  The  master  of  sculpture  and  the  master 
of  painting  joined  hands  in  the  endeavor  to  express  this  feel- 
ing, and  used  the  national  legends  as  symbols  of  their  intent. 
Athene  was  regarded  as  at  once  the  patroness  of  Athens  and 
the  ally  of  Zeus  in  his  conflict  with  tlie  Titans.  Kimon 
brought  home  from  Thasos  the  bones  of  Theseus,  the  ancient 
national  hero,  and  laid  them  in  a  separate  shrine,  in  the  dec- 
orations of  which  were  celebrated  his  heroic  deeds  against 
the  Kentaurs,  the  representatives  of  untamed  natural  force, 
and  against  the  Amazons,  the  invaders  of  his  country.  In  a 
similar  spirit  Polygnotus  took  part  in  the  adornment  of  Ki- 
mon's  house.  In  the  building  which  went  by  the  name  of 
the  Painted  Portico  he  renewed  the  memories  of  Troy,  giv- 
ing special  prominence  to  the  deeds  of  the  Athenian  contin- 
gent, but  his  chief  work  was  to  give  form  and  expression  to 
the  stories  of  the  battle  of  Marathon. 

But  it  is  not  only  patriotism  which  raises  these  works  of 
art  above  all  that  preceded  them.  Both  Pheidias  and  Polyg- 
notus had  at  the  same  time  an  ideal  end  in  view.  In  the 
Leschii  at  Delphi,  Polygnotus,  taking  as  one  of  his  subjects 


PHEIDIAS  AND  POLYGNOTUS.  321 

the  under-world,  attempted  to  put  the  justice  of  the  gods  into 
a  visible  form.  He  is  famed  also  as  a  painter  of  character, 
who  never  lost  sight  of  the  bearing  which  rightly  belonged 
to  those  whom  he  portrayed.  Of  his  painting  of  Polyxena, 
when  being  sacrificed  as  an  atonement  to  the  shade  of  xichil- 
les,  an  ancient  observer  says  that  the  whole  story  of  the  Tro- 
jan war  was  in  her  eyes.  The  fame  of  Pheidias  was  raised  to 
a  still  higher  point  by  the  chryselephantine  statue  of  Zeus  at 
Olympia.  It  is  an  old  tradition  that  as  he  fashioned  it  the 
verses  of  Homer  were  in  his  mind,  in  which  the  poet  speaks 
of  the  brows  and  hair  of  the  deity,  and  how  Olympus  trem- 
bled at  his  nod.  -^milius  Paulus,  that  victorious  Philhellene, 
remarked  that  in  the  statue  appeared  the  Homeric  Zeus  com- 
plete, nay,  rather  the  essence  of  divinity  itself.  Pheidias, 
adds  another  Eoman,  carved  gods  still  better  than  men,  and 
even  religion  profited  by  his  aid.  Thus  art,  too,  had  some- 
thing to  say  in  these  discussions  on  the  divine  and  human 
which  occupied  Greek  minds.  Her  influence  was  a  living 
influence,  and,  in  the  form  which  it  took  in  the  hands  of 
these  artists,  might  even  balance  the  speculations  of  Anax- 
agoi'as. 

But  just  at  this  time  the  intellectual  movement  received  a 
new  stimulus  from  the  influence  of  Sicily.  In  that  country 
philosophical  culture  and  political  theory  availed  themselves 
to  the  full  of  the  technical  improvements  recently  made  in 
the  art  of  speech.  The  first  theoretical  book  on  any  art  was 
a  treatise  on  rhetoric,  written  in  Sicily.  Elsewhere,  too,  there 
arose  schools,  in  which  the  art  of  dialectic  and  oratory  was 
taught  in  conjunction  with  philosophical  doctrine.  These 
were  the  first  public  schools  in  which  voluntary  learners  at- 
tached themselves  to  a  master.  During  the  time  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war  we  find  the  most  distinguished  representatives 
of  these  schools  at  Athens. 

Gorgias  of  Leontini,  who  came  to  Athens  originally  as  an 
ambassador  from  his  native  city,  was  a  man  remarkable  for 
the  splendor  of  his  diction  and  the  dignity  of  his  personal  ap- 
pearance. From  Sicily  too,  where  lie  had  taught  for  pay, 
came  Protagoras  of  Abdera.  Besides  these  there  came  Hip- 
pias  of  Elis,  Prodicus  of  Keos,  and  from  Chios  the  brothers 

21 


322  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

Euthj^demus  and  Dionysodoriis.  We  find  these  men  in  the 
anterooms  of  the  most  distinguished  citizens,  or  in  the  gym- 
nasia, attended  as  they  paced  to  and  fro  by  numerous  pupils, 
both  strangers  and  natives.  Every  pointed  remark  that  falls 
from  their  lips  is  received  with  loud  applause,  and  those  who 
are  put  to  rout  by  their  logical  skill  are  laughed  at  by  the 
rest.  They  sit  on  benches  and  make  answer  to  all  who  ques- 
tion them,  or  they  rest  on  couches  and  talk  in  a  voice  loud 
enough  to  fill  the  room.  They  receive  fees  from  their  pupils, 
and  Protagoras  is  said  to  have  made  a  larger  fortune  than 
Pheidias. 

These  men,  among  whom  were  to  be  found  persons  worthy 
of  all  respect,  were  called  Sophists.  The  flavor  of  evil  repu- 
tation that  hangs  about  this  title  is  principally  due  to  the  at- 
titude which  they  took  up  towards  philosophical  opinions,  for, 
whether  they  inclined  towards  the  Ionian  school,  like  Pro- 
tagoras, or,  like  Gorgias,  to  the  Sicilian,  the  prominent  char- 
acteristic of  their  teaching  is  the  complete  uncertainty  of  all 
things. 

Starting  from  the  position  that  everything  rests  on  two 
movements  independent  of  one  another,  the  one  that  of  the 
subject,  or  sentient  being,  the  other  that  of  the  object,  or 
sensible  being,  Protagoras  held  that  all  perception  originated 
in  the  meeting  of  these  two,  which  meeting  belonged,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  to  the  domain  of  chance.  Perception  he 
considered  to  be  a  purely  subjective  sensation,  the  object  of 
which  is  of  an  essentially  fleeting  nature  and  only  attains  to 
reality  through  being  felt.  Similar  or  even  more  advanced 
ideas  were  promulgated  by  the  followers  of  Parmenides.  The 
fundamental  principle  of  the  Sophists — namely,  that  what  is 
unreal  has  no  existence  at  all  —  was  developed  by  them  into 
the  axiom  that  a  lie  is  impossible.  They  expected  an  oppo- 
nent to  begin  by  proving  to  them  that  such  a  thing  as  false 
opinion  could  exist,  and  that  deceitful  appearances  could  pen- 
etrate linto  the  region  of  thought. 

Those  doubts  about  the  existence  of  truth  reacted  of  ne- 
cessity on  religious  as  well  as  political  views.  When  men 
went  60  far  as  to  say  that  the  gods  were  only  recognized  in 
accordance  with  custom  and  law,  it  was  but  a  short  step  to 


SOCRATES.  323 

the  statement — a  statement  put  forward  even  at  this  early 
date,  and  frequently  repeated  under  very  diverse  conditions 
— that  religion  owes  its  origin  to  a  political  artifice  of  ancient 
date,  when  it  was  thouglit  to  be  expedient  to  represent  the 
gods  as  overseers  of  human  virtue  and  vice.  Other  thinkers 
went  on  to  connect  the  idea  of  law  and  justice  with  the 
ephemeral  opinion  of  ruling  parties.  The  statement  attrib- 
uted in  Plato's  "  Republic  "  to  Thrasymachus,  that  justice  is 
that  which  is  profitable  to  the  ruler,  must  doubtless,  as  we 
gather  from  Cicero,  have  actually  occurred  in  his  writings. 
It  was  a  question  which,  as  we  learn  from  Xenophon's  "Mem- 
orabilia," occupied  the  attention  of  Pericles,  and  that,  too, 
with  immediate  reference  to  the  existing  polity.  Pericles  re- 
marks that  he  has  been  in  doubt  whether  that  which  is  estab- 
lished by  the  caprice  of  the  mob  is  to  be  regarded  as  law  or 
violence. 

8.  Socrates, 

Scepticism  was  thus  triumphant.  Men  doubted  of  the  ob- 
jectivity of  perceptions,  of  the  truth  or  untruth  of  speech,  of 
the  existence  of  the  gods,  which  was  made  dependent  on  hu- 
man opinion,  even  of  the  difference  between  right  and  wrong. 
In  the  midst  of  this  chaos  of  conflicting  opinion  Socrates  ap- 
peared. His  very  exterior  was  remarkable.  He  went  about 
barefoot,  in  mean  attire ;  his  wants  were  few  and  easily  satis- 
fied, for  he  fancied  that  thereby  he  approached  the  gods,  who 
stand  in  need  of  naught.  He  was  daily  to  be  seen  in  the 
market-place,  in  the  worksliops,  in  the  gymnasia ;  he  con- 
versed with  young  and  old,  high  and  low,  and  yet  without 
pretending  to  be  a  teacher.  No  one  with  whom  he  came  in 
contact  could  escape  from  the  iron  grasp  of  his  dialectic.  He 
appealed  only  to  the  verdict  of  sound  human  intelligence, 
making  it  his  business  to  bring  this  intelligence  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  itself.  The  Sophists  lived  in  the  region  of  es- 
tablished notions,  and  on  this  foundation  they  built  up  their 
views  and  systems.  Socrates  made  it  his  duty  to  examine 
these  notions,  and  applied  to  them  the  touchstone  of  that  in- 
sight which  is  implanted  in  the  breast  of  every  human  being. 
He  put  in  question  all  tlie  notions  from  which  the  Sophists 
started ;  he  inquired  into  what  they  called  rational,  right,  or 


324  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

equable ;  he  subjected  these  notions  to  criticism  by  the  stand- 
ard of  innate  ideas,  which  alone  he  held  to  be  true.  By  this 
method  he  gathered  from  the  multiplicity  of  opinion  a  sum 
of  irrefragable  truth.  The  knowledge  which  he  obtained  has 
been  rightly  defined  as  the  science  of  ideas.  It  is  only  on  the 
foundation  of  such  a  knowledge  tliat  safe  rules  of  moral  con- 
duct can  be  based,  for  virtue  and  knowledge  are  thus  made 
to  coincide. 

The  human  mind  has  never  been  placed  in  a  more  com- 
manding position.  It  contains  in  itself  the  criterion  of  all 
truth ;  it  is,  in  fact,  in  possession  of  truth.  The  essence  of 
Socratic  principles  lies  in  the  declaration  that,  in  order  to  dis- 
cover what  is  true,  it  is  only  necessary  to  sever  tenable  ideas 
from  those  notions  that  are  untenable.  Socrates  regards  the 
human  mind  as  the  source  and  warrant  of  all  ideas,  and  es- 
pecially of  moral  ideas ;  but  the  ideas  themselves  he  deduces 
from  insight.  Science  thus  changed  its  character:  it  took, 
as  its  starting-point,  the  ideas  that  are  innate  in  man.  It  was 
remarked  in  ancient  times  that  Socrates  had  brought  back 
philosophy  from  heaven  to  earth.  The  same  may  be  said  to 
have  been  done  by  Thukydides  in  history,  and  by  Euripides 
in  the  drama.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  tendency  of  the  age.  Nev- 
ertheless Socrates  went  to  work  with  great  prudence.  Anax- 
agoras,  who  flourished  while  Socrates  was  still  young,  had 
done  undeniable  service  by  declaring  those  occurrences,  such 
as  eclipses  of  the  moon  or  monstrous  births,  which  filled  men 
with  alarm  for  the  future,  to  be  merely  natural  phenomena, 
having  no  connection  with  human  acts  or  intentions.  Socra- 
tes opposed  him  on  the  ground  tliat  the  explanations  given 
of  these  phenomena  were  either  insufficient  or  inapplicable. 
He  expressed  his  belief  that  there  were  certain  things  which 
the  gods  had  reserved  as  the  special  area  of  their  activity, 
while  at  the  same  time  he  accepted  the  idea  that  all  things 
were  swayed  by  a  single  divine  intelligence.  The  human 
mind  was,  in  his  view,  the  offspring  of  this  intelligence,  and 
thereby  connected  with  the  gods.  On  similar  grounds  he 
clung  firmly  to  the  conviction  that  the  gods  took  an  imme- 
diate share  in  directing  human  affairs,  and  manifested  in 
miraculous  wise  their  kindly  care  for  man.    lie  bad  the  live- 


SOCRATES.  325 

liest  sense  of  the  mysterious  connection  between  the  divine 
and  human,  and  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that  he  had  with- 
in him  a  dcemon^  distinct  from  himself,  which  warned  him 
against  any  mistake  that  he  was  in  danger  of  committing. 
All  this  did  not  prevent  him  from  opposing  the  prevailing 
notions  about  the  gods.  He  held,  for  instance,  that  it  was 
wrong  to  imagine  that  men  could  do  them  any  service,  but 
their  omnipresence,  their  omnipotence,  and  their  goodness  re- 
ceived from  him  full  recognition.  Socrates  undertook  one 
of  the  greatest  and  noblest  tasks  that  were  set  before  Athe- 
nian society,  the  task,  namely,  of  cleansing  the  ancient  faith 
from  its  superstitious  elements,  and  of  combining  rational  and 
religious  truth.  / 

Such  a  man  was  sure  to  be  misunderstood.  Every  one 
knows  how  the  great  comic  poet,  one  of  the  strongest  intellects 
of  the  day,  misused  his  name ;  for  the  Socrates  of  Aristoph- 
anes is  as  far  apart  from  the  Socrates  of  real  life  as  earth 
from  heaven.*  It  may  fairly  be  said  that  the  Socrates  of 
comedy  is  the  Protagoras  of  the  Platonic  dialogue,  for  Aris- 
tophanes represents  him  as  supporting  that  which  the  Soc- 
rates of  history  did  his  best  to  overthrow. 

These  attacks  were  supported  by  a  popular  reaction  against 
anti-traditional  modes  of  thought.  Such  modes  had  found 
favor  with  Pericles,  but  the  democracy  held  fast  to  the  old 
superstition.  It  appears  that  Cleon  made  use  of  the  soothsayer 
Diopeithes,  and  of  oracles  in  general.  It  was  on  the  ground 
of  an  oracle  that  he  carried  out,  in  the  sixth  year  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war,  a  purification  of  Delos,  which  was  attended 


*  In  his  treatise  "  De  Vita  Aristophanis "  (in  "  Aristopli.  Com."  ed. 
Meineke),  p.  xviii,,  my  brother,  Ferdinand  Ranke,  a  man  as  learned  as  he 
was  amiable,  remarks,  "  Excepta  paupertate,  parsimonia,  abstinentia,  labo- 
rum  patientia,  aliisque  rebus  laudi  potius  et  honori  inservientibus  quam 
justse  reprehensioni  obnoxiis  reliqua  omnia  nihil  esse  nisi  aut  mendacia 
aut  errores,  omne,  quod  a  Xenophonte  et  Platone  de  Socrate  narratur, 
luculcnter  docet.  Neque  enim  prioribus  neque  posterioribus  vitae  annis 
discipulos  in  domum  recepit  aut  naturaleni  philosophiam  aut  dialecticam 
artem  docuit."  The  piece  was  published  as  early  as  the  year  424-3,  un- 
der the  archonship  of  Isarchus,  at  a  time  when  the  peculiar  position  of 
Socrates  w^as  not  as  yet  rightly  understood. 


826  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

with  much  violence.  Nikias,  too,  was  in  communication  with 
Diopeithes.  In  the  trial  occasioned  by  the  mutilation  of  the 
Hermae  the  populace,  infuriated  by  the  violation  of  mysteries 
and  the  insults  done  to  the  rites  it  adored,  gave  free  vent  to 
its  animosit}^  It  was  about  the  same  time  that  Protagoras 
was  expelled  from  Athens  and  his  atheistical  works  commit- 
ted to  the  flames.  Whether,  as  some  say,  it  was  one  of  the 
Four  Hundred  who  brought  the  charge  against  him  must  re- 
main uncertain.  Even  the  worship  of  Kotytto  and  Kybele 
w\as  introduced  from  abroad,  and  met  with  the  warmest  recep-* 
tion.  How  resolutely  men  clung  to  their  old  religious  views 
may  be  best  seen  in  the  condemnation  of  the  generals  after 
the  battle  of  Arginusse,  a  step  which  was  opposed  by  Soc- 
rates. 

Socrates,  as  we  have  seen,  clung  originally  to  the  positive 
faith,  as  modified  to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  higher  intel- 
ligence ;  but  to  the  form  in  which  it  was  acceptable  to  the 
democracy,  and  in  which  it  became  idolatrous,  he  openly  de- 
clared himself  an  opponent.  The  unfortunate  issue  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  and  the  victories  of  the  Lakedaemonians, 
who  clung  firmly  to  ancient  principles,  were  not  without  effect 
upon  Athenian  feeling  both  with  respect  to  religion  and  the 
constitution.  The  frequent  revolutions  experienced  by  the 
republic  since  the  death  of  Pericles  had  shaken  the  confidence 
of  all  thinking  men  in  the  dominant  political  system.  In  the 
struggle  between  oligarchy  and  democracy  Socrates  did  not 
actually  take  sides  with  either.  But  after  this  struggle  had 
passed  through  various  phases,  and  the  democracy  had  at 
length  got  the  upper  hand,  public  opinion  about  Socrates  was 
influenced  by  the  fact  that,  whatever  he  was,  he  was  not  a 
democrat. 

On  the  contrary,  he  found  himself  in  antagonism  to  the 
fundamental  idea  of  democracy.  He  founded  his  ethical  sys- 
tem on  an  intellectual  basis,  and  he  regarded  political  systems 
from  the  same  point  of  view.  His  doctrine  w^as  that  he 
should  rule  who  best  understood  the  art  of  ruling.  A  ruler 
excelling  all  his  contemporaries  in  intelligence  was,  indeed, 
not  forthcoming.  Alkibiades  was  far  from  corresponding 
with  such  an  ideal.    Critias,  the  most  violent  of  the  Thirty 


SOCRATES.  327 

Tyrants,  was  still  further  removed  from  it.  It  was  one  of 
the  most  damaging  charges  against  the  philosopher  that  Alki- 
biades  and  Critias  were  his  pupils,  however  little  he  is  to  be 
blamed  for  their  excesses.  The  political  ideas  of  Socrates 
had  rather  a  negative  tendency ;  among  other  things,  he  ob- 
jected to  the  conferring  of  office  by  lot;  for  who,  said  he, 
would  place  confidence  in  a  helmsman  chosen  in  this  fashion? 
But,  in  taking  up  this  position,  he  put  in  question  the  claim 
of  those  who  possessed  the  franchise  to  exclude  others  from 
the  state,  and  to  assume  its  whole  direction ;  and  this,  too,  at 
a  time  when,  in  consequence  of  the  recent  conflict,  it  had  been 
resolved  to  restore  the  laws  of  Solon,  which  were  based  upon 
this  very  principle,  in  their  original  form.  The  main  current 
of  political  feeling  flowed  in  this  direction,  and  the  restoration 
of  Athenian  power  was  believed  to  depend  upon  the  restora- 
tion of  the  democracy. 

The  execution  of  this  project  implied  the  maintenance  of 
the  ancient  religion,  on  which  the  political  system  in  great 
measure  rested,  with  undiminished  authority.  Now  Socrates, 
it  could  not  be  denied,  performed  all  his  civil  and  religious 
duties.  But  his  speculations  went  far  beyond  these  duties; 
he  did  not,  as  became  a  born  Athenian,  adopt  as  his  own  the 
idea  of  the  constitution  and  of  the  popular  religion.  His 
thoughts,  at  any  rate,  were  free  from  any  specifically  national 
element.  His  philosophy  strove  to  grasp  what  is  common  to 
humanity  in  those  fundamental  ideas  which  range  far  beyond 
the  outward  forms  of  social  life  at  Athens,  of  the  Athenian 
state,  and  the  Athenian  religion.  And  these  ideas  he  by  no 
means  kept  to  himself;  he  communicated  them  in  conversa- 
tion with  younger  men,  and  compelled  their  recognition.  In 
happier  times,  when  there  was  nothing  to  fear,  the  Athenian 
republic  might  have  been  content  to  look  quietly  on  at  con- 
duct of  this  kind,  but  it  could  no  longer  afford  to  be  tolerant. 
The  democratic  principles,  according  to  which  the  restored 
Council  of  Five  Hundred,  the  holders  of  supreme  authority, 
were  chosen  by  lot  or  by  a  chance  majority,  were  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  the  doctrines  of  Socrates,  who  taught  that 
good  government  was  absolutely  incompatible  with  such  con- 
ditions.    But  the  times  required  that  all  should  lend  their  aid 


328  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURR 

to  the  restoration  of  the  state.  A  man  wlio  enjoyed  the  ven- 
eration of  all  impartial  or  youthful  minds,  and  made  use  of 
his  power  to  inveigh  against  the  axioms  on  which  the  exist- 
ing social  system  depended,  could  no  longer  be  allowed  free 

play. 

We  must  not  depreciate  the  intrinsic  importance  of  the 
question  which  was  thus  brought  forward.  It  is  the  question 
whether  the  legislative  power  should  not  originate  in  some- 
thing better  than  the  authority  of  popular  leaders  or  a  major- 
ity of  the  people.  In  the  latter  case  law  itself  appeared  as  a 
mere  act  of  power,  and  on  that  account  could  not  be  regarded 
as  unconditionally  binding ;  while  beyond  existing  forms 
there  lay  the  idea  of  a  state  grounded  on  wisdom  and  insight, 
which  could  not  be  made  dependent  on  the  support  of  the 
masses,  and  still  less  on  the  fortune  of  the  lot.  The  manner 
in  which  laws  are  to  be  passed  is  the  weightiest  problem  that 
can  be  laid  before  any  administration.  When,  therefore, 
Socrates  deviated  from  the  principles  which  underlay  the  de- 
mocracy, he  incurred  the  hatred  of  the  democratic  leadei*s — a 
hatred  which,  regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  existing 
state,  was  not  without  its  justification.  He  was  brought  to  trial 
by  a  man  named  Anytus,  who  had  taken  part  in  the  re-estab- 
lishment of  the  republic  under  Thrasybulus,  and  two  literary 
comrades — a  poet,  who  undertook  to  conduct  the  prosecution, 
and  a  rhetorician.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  influence 
which  Socrates  had  obtained  over  a  son  of  Anytus  was  at  the 
root  of  the  latter's  animosity.  The  philosopher  was  declared 
to  be  a  perverter  of  youth,  a  person  who  not  only  despised 
the  old  gods,  but  endeavored  to  introduce  the  worship  of  new. 
There  was  just  this  much  in  support  of  the  cliarge,  that 
Socrates  refused  credit  to  those  portions  of  the  mythology 
which  attributed  human  passions  to  the  gods,  and  spoke  of  his 
dcBmon  in  a  way  which  made  his  own  conscience  the  reposi- 
tory of  absolute  truth.  In  the  fate  of  Socrates  there  is  some- 
thing deeply  tragic.  The  free  and  imposing  development 
with  which  he  identified  himself,  true  and  noble  as  it  was, 
brought  liim  into  collision  with  the  dominant  tendencies 
which  were  at  work  on  the  restoration  of  the  state.  In  him 
sentiments  common  to  mankind  came  into  conflict  with  a 


SOCRATES.  329 

passing  phase  of  patriotism,  and  his  idea  of  the  deitj  clashed 
with  the  established  religion  of  the  state. 

Socrates  had  devoted  his  life  before  all  things  to  his  native 
city;  he  had  never  left  Athens  except  when  some  military 
expedition  in  which  he  had  to  take  part  carried  him  beyond 
her  walls.  He  was  now  convinced  that  Athens  was  no  place 
for  him.  He  saw  that  he  must  perish,  and  hand  over  the 
maintenance  and  development  of  his  doctrines  to  other  men 
and  to  happier  circumstances.  His  dcBmoii  warned  him  not  to 
oppose  the  sentence  which  was  about  to  be  pronounced  against 
him.  There  was,  indeed,  great  truth  in  the  claim  he  made 
that  he  should  be  allowed  to  dine  in  the  Prytaneum  at  the 
public  expense.  He  was  worthy  of  that  reward,  but  to  grant 
it  would  have  been  to  deny  the  absolute  validity  of  tliose  very 
principles  which  his  judges  were  most  eager  to  proclaim. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Socrates  was  innocent ;  he  was 
not  attacked  on  the  score  of  his  actions,  but  on  the  score  of 
his  opinions,  and  these  were  the  noblest  that  had  yet  found 
expression  in  Athens,  and  were  based  on  a  profound  acquaint- 
ance with  the  nature  of  man.  It  was  to  the  honor  of  Athens 
tliat  this  appeal  to  the  source  of  irrefragable  truth  that  exists 
in  the  breast  of  every  intelligent  human  being  was  made 
within  her  walls.  But  she  could  not  tolerate  the  appeal,  for 
it  was  antagonistic  to  the  political  restoration  which  was  then 
in  progress,  and  to  this  restoration  Socrates  fell  a  victim.  As 
for  himself,  he  suffered  nothing  that  he  would  have  regarded 
as  a  misfortune.  He  had  passed  the  age  of  seventy  years;* 
he  had  lived  his  life,  and  fulfilled  the  task  to  which  he  felt 
himself  called ;  and  he  swallowed  the  fatal  hemlock  without 
a  pang. 

0.  Plato  and  Aristotle. 

By  the  death  of  Socrates  a  gulf  was  placed  between  those 


*  So,  at  least,  says  Plato  ("  Apol."  p.  17),  whom  I  would  rather  trust  on 
such  a  point  than  ApoUodorus.  The  latter  places  the  birth  of  Socrates 
in  the  month  Thargelion,  in  the  year  468.  Socrates  died  in  the  month 
Thargelion,  in  the  year  399,  under  the  archonship  of  Laches,  so  that,  ac- 
cording to  the  ordinary  calculation,  he  had  just  entered  upon  his  seven- 
tieth year,  which  does  not  agree  with  what  Plato  says. 


330  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

philosophical  speculations  which  tended  towards  a  positive 
but  intellectual  form  of  faith  and  the  idolatrous  religion  of 
the  state.  The  state  set  itself  to  oppose  every  attempt  to 
popularize  the  new  ideas,  but  philosophy  was  fortunately  al- 
lowed to  continue  its  own  development.  As  the  ancient  fable 
puts  it,  there  sprang  from  the  breast  of  Socrates  a  swan — the 
bird  of  Apollo.     This  swan  was  Plato. 

The  Sophists  were  foreigners  in  Athens ;  Socrates  belonged 
to  the  poorer  class  of  citizens ;  but  Plato  sprang  from  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  families  in  the  state,  a  family  that 
traced  its  descent  from  the  last  of  the  kings.  Critias,  who 
passed  for  a  pupil  of  Socrates,  was  a  near  relation  of  Plato's 
mother,  and  one  of  Plato's  brothers  fell  at  the  side  of  Critias 
in  the  fight  with  Thrasybulus.  At  the  time  when  that  con- 
flict came  to  a  close  Plato  was  already  a  pupil  in  the  school 
of  Socrates,  whose  society  he  enjoyed  for  a  period  of  ten 
years.  If  Anytus,  as  a  democrat,  reproached  Socrates  with 
having  ruined  his  son,  the  aristocratic  family  of  Plato  were 
probably  of  the  opposite  opinion.  Plato  was  thus  enabled  to 
attach  himself  with  all  his  heart  to  the  great  master  of  logic 
and  of  ethics.  After  the  death  of  Socrates  he  considered  it 
advisable  to  leave  Athens.  He  betook  himself  first  to  Mega- 
ra,  where  Eucleides  was  endeavoring  to  combine  the  Socratic 
method  with  the  views  of  the  Eleatic  school,  and  then  to  Ky- 
rene,  where  he  found  a  friend  of  that  school  engaged  in  the 
study  of  mathematical  science.  Thence  he  went  to  Southern 
Italy,  where  the  doctrines  and  discipline  of  Pythagoras  still 
produced  men  like  Archytas,  who  obtained  such  influence  in 
Tarentum  as  to  control  the  issues  of  peace  and  war.  In  his 
zest  for  travelling  Plato  somewhat  resembled  Herodotus.  We 
are  assured  that  he  even  went  to  Egypt,  to  make  himself  ac- 
quainted with  the  ancient  wisdom  of  the  priests  of  Ammon, 
and  that  he  intended  to  explore  the  doctrines  of  the  Persian 
Magi,  had  he  not  been  hindered  by  the  outbreak  of  war.  In 
Plato  the  philosophical  opinions  of  the  contemporary  world 
were  reflected,  as  Herodotus  reflected  its  historical  recollec- 
tions, but  he  allowed  nothing  to  seduce  him  from  the  idealism 
of  Socrates. 

In  Plato's  life  the  three  gradations  of  apprenticeship,  travel, 


PLATO.  331 

and  teaching  may  be  clearly  distinguished.*  On  his  return 
to  Athens  he  was  strongly  advised  to  enter  upon  a  political 
career,  to  which  his  noble  birth  would  have  insured  him  im- 
mediate admission.  But  the  fate  of  Socrates  had  made  it 
clear  that  genuine  philosophical  conviction  was  incompatible 
with  political  activity.  He  therefore  rejected  all  such  propo- 
sals, and  devoted  his  life  to  the  development  of  philosophical 
doctrine.  He  lived  in  his  own  house,  close  by  the  Academus, 
a  garden  adorned  with  monuments  of  the  gods  and  heroes, 
overshadowed  with  noble  plane-trees,  and  thickly  planted  with 
the  native  olive,  whose  origin  was  supposed  to  be  divine. 
Here  his  pupils  collected  round  him  in  much  the  same  way 
as  they  had  once  collected  round  the  Sophists,  and  with  them 
he  discussed  the  conflict  which  his  teacher  had  carried  on  with 
antagonistic  systems  and  opinions.  His  works  are  the  record 
of  these  scientific  discussions.  They  are  conversations  in 
which  Socratic  views  are  maintained  against  all  comers,  and 
developed  in  a  ceaseless  conflict  of  logic.  In  this  liome  he 
read  and  wrote  and  worked,  till  at  length,  in  advanced  old 
age,  but  with  all  his  powers  unimpaired,  he  was  overtaken  by 
the  common  fate  of  man.  One  tradition  declares  that  he 
breathed  his  last  in  the  midst  of  a  joyous  feast ;  another,  that 
he  died  in  the  act  of  writing,  his  stylus  in  his  hand. 

It  is  no  mere  accident  that  Plato's  writings  are  in  the  form 
of  dialogues;  they  were  taken  directly  from  the  life.  Dia- 
logue brings  to  view  the  inner  processes  of  the  mind;  it 
throws  light,  as  it  were,  upon  the  very  growth  of  thought. 
One  is  struck,  in  reading  the  dialogues  of  Plato,  by  the  har- 
mony of  form  and  matter,  the  union  of  happy  invention  and 
appropriate  expression.  In  a  word,  they  are  the  work  of  a 
great  writer.  No  one  has  ever  more  clearly  shown  the  per- 
manent value  of  careful  and  correct  composition. 

It  does  not  come  within  the  scope  of  this  work  to  trace 
the  development  of  that  system  which  all  subsequent  genera- 
tions have  striven  to  fathom  and  to  understand.    We  can  only 


*  I  purposely  omit  Plato's  residence  in  Sicily  and  his  adventures  there. 
The  facts  themselves  are  doubtful,  and  a  detailed  examination  would  not 
be  in  place  here. 


332  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

toucli  upon  the  connection  of  Plato's  thonglits  witli  those 
questions  of  universal  interest  which  agitated  the  intellect  of 
Greece.  The  theological  problem,  which  occupied  the  atten- 
tion of  all  Greek  poets  and  thinkers,  rests  upon  the  assump 
tion  of  a  conflict  between  the  primary  forces  of  nature  and 
the  Olympian  gods.  The  gods  exist,  as  the  heroes  exist ;  the 
gods  rule  the  universe,  and  the  universe  is  subject  to  their 
laws.  But  they  are  to  be  regarded,  as  we  have  already  seen 
in  Herodotus,  rather  as  active  powers  than  as  divine  beings : 
the  true  essence  of  the  divine  does  not  make  its  appearance 
in  them :  they  are  subject  to  fate.  The  primary  forces,  which 
have  a  moral  as  well  as  physical  importance,  exist  apart  from 
them,  and  in  conflict  with  them.  Herodotus  is  ff^r  from  de- 
nying the  existence  of  the  gods,  but  when  the  truly  divine 
is  in  question  he  always  takes  refuge  in  the  mysteries.  Pin- 
dar rejects  all  that  is  immoral  and  unseemly  in  the  legends  of 
the  gods.  Sophocles  resembles  him  in  refusing  to  believe 
that  the  gods  are  ever  to  be  found  in  opposition  to  what  is 
right.  In  Euripides,  on  the  contrary,  all  that  is  reprehensible 
in  the  legends  of  the  gods  is  brought  forward  without  reserve, 
^schylus  and  Herodotus  have  a  profounder  insight  into  this 
contradiction  than  any  other  authors.  The  most  important 
point  in  JEschylus  is  the  view  that  man  himself  belongs  to 
the  primeval  world,  and  supported  by  the  primary  forces  of 
nature  as  opposed  to  the  gods,  wins  his  way  to  the  free  culti- 
vation of  his  physical  and  intellectual  powers.  In  this  anal- 
ysis, then,  the  existence  of  a  something  essentially  divine  is 
assumed,  and  it  is  this  of  which  philosophical  discussion  aims 
at  forming  an  ideal  conception. 

Plato,  in  common  with  Pindar  and  Herodotus,  combats  the 
view  of  the  gods  which  we  find  in  Homer  and  Hesiod.  He 
defines  the  tales  about  Uranus  and  Cronus  as  "a  great  lie 
about  the  greatest  things,"  and  an  ill-favored  lie  to  boot.  It 
appears  to  liim  preposterous  that  the  gods  should  be  supposed 
to  engage  in  war  and  conflict  with  one  another.  If  God  is 
good,  how  can  he  do  harm  ?  If  he  is  truth  itself,  how  can  lie 
deceive  ?  Plato  rejects  the  fables  not  only  of  epic  but  also  of 
lyric  poetry,  according  to  which  it  is  always  easy  for  a  god  to 
find  a  pretext  for  ruining  men.    All  that  one  may  lawfully 


PLATO.  333 

aflSrra  is,  that  the  deity  does  what  is  right  and  good,  and  that 
when  any  one  is  cliastised  it  is  for  his  advantage.  To  give 
expression  to  these  opinions  was  comparatively  unimportant, 
for  they  ah-eady  carried  conviction  to  the  minds  of  thought- 
ful and  independent  men,  but  how  to  defend  them  against 
the  analytical  doctrines  of  the  Sophists  was  a  problem  which 
demanded  immediate  solution. 

Plato  introduces  us  to  all  the  most  famous  Sophists.  Some- 
times he  exerts  himself  to  annihilate  the  dogmatism  and  fine 
speeches  of  some  particular  opponent.  For  instance,  in  the 
*'  Protagoras,"  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  easiest  and  most 
graceful  introduction  to  Platonic  views,  the  peculiar  proposi- 
tions of  that  philosoplier  are  overthrown,  and  on  their  ruins 
those  of  Plato  are  marshalled  in  splendid  array.  At  other 
times  he  attacks  the  sophistic  method  in  general.  In  the 
"  Euthydemus,"  for  example,  Dionysodorus  is  made  to  refute 
himself  by  successive  affirmations  and  denials,  and  the  sophis- 
tic trick  of  embarrassing  an  opponent  by  using  the  same  word 
in  different  senses  is  exposed  in  all  its  hollowness.  A  closer 
analj'sis  of  the  dialogues  in  their  bearing  on  the  sophistic 
method  of  the  day  brings  out  with  ever-increasing  clearness 
what  particular  antagonist  Plato  had  in  view  on  each  occasion. 
He  sometimes  combines  several  different  opinions;  and,  while 
appearing  to  desert  one  in  favor  of  the  other,  aims  at  the  de- 
struction of  both.  He  not  only  attacks  simultaneously  Pro- 
tagoras, Gorgias,  and  the  sophistic  followers  of  Parmenides, 
but  he  refutes  Heracleitus  with  the  arguments  of  Empedocles, 
and  Empedocles  with  the  arguments  of  Heracleitus.*  The 
opinions,  however,  which  are  thus  attacked  are  not  treated  as 
personal,  but  as  universal,  errors.  In  the  "  Thesetetus  "  Plato 
refutes  certain  views  which  reappeared  in  full  force  and  activ- 
ity in  the  eighteenth  century. 

On  the  one  hand  the  commonplace  notions  about  gods  and 
things  divine  are  rejected,  on  the  other  the  schemes  of  philoso- 
phers opposed  to  these  notions  are  overthrown.  Between  the 
two,  now  attaching  itself  to  one  side,  now  to  the  other,  rises 
the  intelligent  mind,  the  one  Being  that  thinks  and  is.     This  is 

*  Comp.  Cousin,  Introduction  to  tlic  Lysis, "  CEuvres  de  Platon,"  iv.  22. 


334  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

very  plain,  for  example,  in  the  "  Sophist."  In  this  dialogue,  in 
the  course  of  his  examination  of  the  sophistic  method,  Plato 
comes  upon  the  idea  of  Being  and  Not-being.  Difference  he 
deduces  from  the  movements  of  Not-being.  Movement  pro- 
duces species,  so  that  something  arises  which  partakes  of  Being, 
which  is  and  yet  is  not  Being.  Plato  does  not  think  it  alto- 
gether a  mistake  to  declare  all  to  be  one,  as  many  persons  do, 
since  things  in  general  may  be  regarded  as  one  and  yet  are 
many.  To  elucidate  the  relation  of  unity  and  multiplicity  is 
a  problem  not  only  of  great  general  interest,  but  of  supreme 
importance  for  any  metaphysical  system.  In  this  relation  lies 
something  divine.  It  might  be  said  that  Prometheus  stole 
this  thou<]:ht  to<i:ether  with  the  fire  from  heaven.  An  idea  is 
unity  in  multiplicity :  it  is  real  Being  in  every  respect :  there 
can  be  even  an  idea  of  ideas.  To  know  is  to  seize  the  idea : 
ideas  are  the  realities  of  the  universe.  By  means  of  this 
one  thought,  a  thousand  times  repeated,  stated,  inculcated,  the 
world  comes  to  have. a  lofty  intellectual  purport,  with  which 
the  thinking  mind  stands  in  immediate  relation.  It  would, 
according  to  Plato,  be  impossible  to  combat  false  notions  about 
the  gods,  if  the  idea  of  good  was  not  forthcoming  as  a  standard 
by  w^hicli  to  test  them.  There  is  an  apposite  remark  on  this 
subject  in  the  "Euthyphron,"  to  the  effect  that  the  holy  is 
not  holy  because  it  is  loved  of  the  gods,  but  is  loved  of  the 
gods  because  it  is  holy. 

Plato  does  not  express  any  opinion  on  the  question  how  far 
the  gods  really  exist ;  but  not  unfrequently,  and  especially 
where  he  is  speaking  of  public  institutions,  as,  for  instance,  in 
the  "Laws,"  he  expressly  recognizes  their  existence.  It  is 
only  the  mythical  notions  of  popular  superstition  that  he  ab- 
solutely rejects.  If  we  recall  the  conflict  of  opinion  between 
Herodotus  and  Thukydides,  we  find  Plato  siding  with  the  lat- 
ter, although  he  is  superior  in  that  his  views  collectively  form 
one  universal  philosophical  system.  The  idea  of  good  is  the 
deepest  foundation  of  being  and  thought.  Plato  seems  to 
have  conceived  of  it  as  spirit,  but  not  as  absolutely  self-deter- 
mined.''^    The  divine  he  describes  as  immutable,  truthful, 

*  Brandis,  "  Handbuch  dcr  Geschichte  in  gricchisch-rOmischen  Phi- 
losophic," 826, 2, 1, 216.  841. 


PLATO  AND  ARISTOTLE.  335 

blissful,  just,  free  from  envy,  and  having  no  part  or  lot  with 
evil.* 

In  the  "Timseus"  God  appears  as  ruler  of  the  universe. 
Ideas  are  associated,  but  not  directly,  with  Becoming.  Time, 
in  its  course,  which  controls  Becoming,  is  only  a  copy  of 
eternity.  The  transition  from  the  idea  to  divine  personality 
is  nowhere,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  explained :  it  is  rather  assumed 
from  the  existence  of  the  gods  than  independently  proved.f 
The  deities  of  the  popular  faith  are  condensed  into  one  living 
Divine  Being. 

Following  a  method  like  this,  it  was  impossible  to  do  more 
than  to  place  a  philosophical  conviction  alongside  of  the 
common  faith.  The  latter  held  good  for  the  multitude,  the 
former  for  the  philosophic  classes.  Still,  it  was  an  inestimable 
gain  that  a  comprehensible  doctrine  hid  been  propounded,  a 
doctrine  which  embraced  all  that  was  tenable  in  the  older 
religious  and  philosophical  notions,  a  doctrine  which  at  once 
satisfied  and  stimulated  thoughtful  minds.  The  origin  of  the 
soul  is  wrapped  in  the  same  obscurity  as  the  personal  existence 
of  the  Deity.  But  its  calling  is  clear :  it  is  to  recognize  the 
idea,  and  to  live  according  to  it. 

Political  rhetoric,  practised  by  the  majority  as  an  art  ena- 
bling its  master  to  play  a  part  in  public  affairs,  is  immeasura- 
bly inferior  to  the  true  science  of  politics.  Such  is  Plato's 
opinion.  Let  us  endeavor  to  connect  with  this  point  of  view 
the  body  of  thought  which  his  great  pupil  and  successor, 
Aristotle,  left  to  posterity.     Aristotle  was  born  at  Stageira,  in 

*  The  passage  in  the  "Timaeus"  is  well  known.  Some  have  seen  in  it 
nothing  but  the  declaration  of  the  author's  own  incompetence;  to  others 
it  seems  to  be  an  ironical  and  almost  scoffing  attack  upon  belief  in  God. 
It  is  probably  a  declaration  of  incompetence,  with  a  tendency  towards 
negation. 

t  Such  is  the  opinion  of  Zeller  ("Die  Philosophic  der  Griechen,"  ii.  1, 
p.  600).  "  Plato,"  says  he, "  nowhere  attempts  to  combine  these  religious 
notions  more  accurately  wuth  his  scientific  ideas,  and  to  prove  their  com- 
patibility." Hegel  ("  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  Gesch.  der  Philos."  ii.  259) 
says, "  When  God  was  only  the  Good,  He  was  only  a  name,  not  yet  self- 
determining  and  self-determined."  I  adduce  these  quotations,  which 
agree  witli  my  views,  as  an  excuse  for  venturing  to  give  the  results  of  my 
own  studies  of  the  works  of  Plato. 


336  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

Clialkidike,  one  of  that  group  of  Greek  colonies  which  are  scat- 
tered over  the  frontier  of  Thrace  and  Makedonia.  For  many 
years  he  enjoyed  the  society  of  Plato,  and  was  a  pupil  in  his 
school ;  he  was  a  warm  adherent  of  the  idealistic  philosophy 
developed  by  Plato  from  the  teaching  of  Socrates;  his  ad- 
miration for  Plato  is  evident  throughout  his  works.  With- 
out Plato  Aristotle  would  have  been  impossible. 

Nevertheless  the  pupil  is  not  seldom  in  opposition  to  the 
master,  and  it  is  on  these  occasions  that  his  work  is  most  im- 
portant. The  difference  between  them  began  on  a  decisive 
point.  Plato  had  assumed  that  primary  matter  was  without 
beginning,  but  had  been  set  in  order  at  a  certain  time  by  the 
Deity.  Aristotle  disputed  this  assumption  in  one  of  his  ear- 
liest works,  on  the  ground  that  no  conqeption  can  be  formed 
of  the  Deity  without  presupposing  an  order  of  the  world.  He 
assumed  the  eternity  of  the  world,  of  the  human  race  as  com- 
prised therein,  but  he  held  that  mankind  had  passed  through 
various  stages  of  development,  and  thus  might  even  be  said 
to  have  had  several  beginnings.  He  too,  like  his  master,  re- 
garded the  Deity  as  the  quintessence  of  all  perfection,  but 
avoided  the  objection  to  which  Plato,  in  not  completely  identi- 
fying the  idea  of  good  with  the  Deity,  had  laid  himself  open. 
His  philosophy,  in  fact,  rests  on  a  union  of  the  dialectic  of 
Socrates  with  the  views  of  Anaxagoras.  The  God  of  Plato 
and  Aristotle  is  simply  the  Nous  of  Anaxagoras,  Reason  en- 
dowed with  being,  whom  they  regard,  however,  as  the  creator 
of  the  universe.  The  religious  and  poetical  vein  of  Plato  is 
not  to  be  found  in  Aristotle:  ho  remains  ever  secure  on  his 
intellectual  heights.  He  hardly  thinks  it  worth  while  even 
to  mention  the  anthropomorphic  conceptions  of  the  Deity  to 
which  popular  faith  still  clung,  and  which  Plato  combated. 
With  him  the  Deity  is  but  the  object  of  reverence  and 
adoration. 

Aristotle  did  not  aim  at  giving  an  exhaustive  description 
of  the  kingdoms  of  nature :  he  rather  sought  to  explain  them 
with  reference  to  his  doctrine  of  the  soul.  His  observations 
on  nature  are  an  introduction  to  all  scientific  physiology,  and 
cannot  be  read  without  admiration.  Equally  important  is  his 
exposition  of  the  difference  between  man  and  other  living 


PLATO'S  REPUBLIC.  337 

creatures.  His  remarks  about  the  distinction  between  active 
and  passive  reason,  of  which  the  former,  autonomous,  semi- 
divine,  and  therefore  immortal,  is  alone  to  be  regarded  as 
true,  are,  in  my  opinion,  the  best  that  could  have  been  made, 
revelation  alone  excepted. 

The  same,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  might  be  said  of  Plato's 
doctrine  of  the  soul.  The  doctrine  of  the  substantiality  and 
immortality  of  the  soul  was  so  far  developed  by  him  that  no 
philosopher  of  later  times  has  been  able  to  add  anything  to  it. 
With  the  religious  intensity  peculiar  to  him,  Plato  directed  his 
gaze  upon  the  future  beyond  the  grave  and  upon  the  soul  in 
itself.  The  soul  appears  at  last,  stripped  of  all  that  could  ob- 
scure its  essential  nature,  before  the  judge,  who,  no  longer  in 
danger  of  deception  through  eye  and  ear,  beholds,  as  a  spirit, 
the  spirit  as  it  really  is. 

Thus  we  can  measure  the  depths  and  heights  of  human 
knowledge  of  divine  things  in  the  works  of  these  two  philoso- 
phers. Their  doctrines  cannot  be  regarded  as  simply  belong- 
ing to  them  alone:  they  are  the  product  of  the  reflective 
power  of  a  whole  epocli,  which  has  since  then  been  revived  at 
intervals,  and  has  made  its  appearance  in  the  greatest  literary 
productions  of  all  ages.  What  they  offer  us  is  not  a  fully  de- 
veloped doctrine,  but  a  series  of  the  most  elevated  thoughts. 

The  views  of  these  two  philosophers  with  regard  to  prac- 
tical life,  and  their  relations  to  one  another  in  this  respect,  are 
of  especial  interest.  Once  severed  from  the  bonds  of  con- 
temporary politics,  Plato  explored  all  the  more  eagerly  the 
conditions  of  an  ideal  polity.  He  has  left  us  two  ideals  of  the 
state.  The  one,  which  he  develops  in  the  "  Laws,"  is  based 
upon  a  system  of  originally  equal  allotments  of  land.  This 
equality  has  to  be  rigidly  maintained,  for  to  inequality  and 
the  wish  to  grow  rich  Plato  attributes  all  evil  passions.  The 
anger  of  the  gods  should  be  invoked  by  means  of  sacrifices  on 
the  head  of  those  who  buy  or  sell.  The  second  of  Plato's 
schemes,  the  most  important  and  truly  ideal  of  the  two,  is  ex- 
pounded in  the  "Eepublic,"  repeated  in  the  "Timgeus,"  and 
maintained  in  other  books.  It  is  based  on  a  community  of 
goods.  Its  chief  object  is  to  provide  a  system  embodying 
the  idea  of  justice  and  holiness,  and  possessed  of  an  authority 

22 


338  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

wliicli  shall  "enable  mankind  fully  to  subdue  the  hundred- 
headed  beast  that  dwells  with  men." 

The  Eepublic  of  Plato  is  not  a  vague  ideal  onl3\  It  implies 
the  most  decided  opposition  to  existing  political  systems,  and 
especially  to  the  republic  of  Athens.  From  such  systems  as 
these  the  philosopher  should,  as  far  as  possible,  cut  himself 
adrift.  The  principle  on  which  the  Athenian  constitution 
depended — namely,  that  the  possession  of  land  and  tlie  right 
to  trade  and  make  gain  entail  the  duty  of  aiding  in  the  na- 
tional defence — was  radically  opposed  by  Plato,  who  wished 
to  exclude  the  agricultural  and  trading  classes  from  the  use  of 
arms.  This  right  is  reserved  for  a  distinct  class,  designated 
guardians,  that  is  to  say,  warriors,  whose  actions  are  to  be 
entirely  under  the  control  of  their  commanders.  The  com- 
manders themselves  are  to  be  philosophers,  that  is  to  say,  men 
who  aim  at  nothing  but  the  common  good  of  all  and  the  per- 
fecting of  the  individual.  It  may  perhaps  be  said  that  prin- 
ciples, in  the  abstract  identical  with  these,  formed  the  ground- 
work of  that  political  system  which  in  the  Middle  Ages  held 
universal  sway  in  Europe.  That  system  combined  a  subject 
population  with  a  higher  class  alone  possessing  the  right  of 
bearing  arms,  under  a  government  in  which  the  idea  of  the 
divine  was  prominent,  and  which  set  itself  to  raise  mankind 
to  the  level  of  that  idea.  In  Plato  there  is  the  same  close  al- 
liance between  monarchy  and  priesthood  which  for  centuries 
held  dominion  over  the  world. 

In  the  second  book  of  the  ''Eepublic"  the  subject  of  edu- 
cation is  treated.  It  is  only  the  guardians  whose  culture  is 
discussed ;  but  this  may  be  accidental.  Tlie  chief  principle 
insisted  on  is  that  the  Deity  should  be  represented  as  good 
and  true,  not  as  deceitful  and  mischievous,  not  only  because 
such  statements  are  false,  but  because  they  ruin  the  youthful 
soul  that  hears  them.  In  the  demand  that  the  divine  should 
rule,  not  only  in  the  individual  soul,  but  also  in  public  life, 
may  be  discerned  a  distant  approach  to  the  hierarchical  ideas 
of  later  times.  The  substantiality  of  the  soul,  immortality, 
the  corrupting  influence  of  the  world,  and  the  possibility  of 
purification  hereafter  lead  on  to  the  Christian  idea,  whose 
6way  succeeded  that  of  Plato.     In  both  the  soul  is  related  to 


ARISTOTLE'S  POLITICS.  339 

that  wliich  is  divine  and  eternal.  The  thousand  years'  wan- 
dering reminds  one  on  the  one  hand  of  Egyptian  conceptions, 
and  on  the  other  of  the  "Divina  Conimedia"  of  Dante. 

The  changes  of  historical  epochs  appear  first  of  all  in  the 
mind  of  the  philosopher  who  has  emancipated  himself  from 
the  dominion  of  the  outward  forms  of  life  around  him.  Aris- 
totle held  an  acknowledged  sway  over  the  philosophic  minds 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  But  in  respect  of  the  ideals  which  men 
set  before  them  in  ordinary  life,  his  influence  was  far  less 
powerful  than  that  of  Plato.  The  latter  leads  us  away  from 
the  existing  world :  the  former  leads  us  back  to  it  and  recog- 
nizes the  conditions  which  it  implies.  Aristotle's  conception 
of  the  state  is  far  more  realistic  than  that  of  Plato.  He  even 
disapproves  of  so  complete  a  withdrawal  from  politics  as  that 
in  which  Plato  lived,  and  holds,  on  the  contrary,  that  a  share 
in  political  life  is  indispensable  to  intellectual  development. 
He  brings  into  prominence  those  conditions  of  political  power 
which  are  neglected  by  Plato — for  instance,  the  advantages  of 
a  maritime  position  in  respect  of  trade  and  commerce — while 
he  accepts  the  most  important  bases  of  civic  life,  which  Plato 
entirely  rejects.  According  to  Aristotle  the  state  cannot  dis- 
pense with  the  family,  in  which  everything  has  to  give  way 
to  the  father's  will.  He  even  recognizes  slavery  as  a  neces- 
sity. He  condemns  the  custom  according  to  which  the  Greeks 
made  slaves  of  their  conquered  compatriots,  on  the  ground 
that  all  Greeks  are  originally  equal ;  but  he  allows  that  nature 
itself  has  destined  one  half  of  mankind  to  subjection,  and  the 
other  half,  that  which  is  more  capable  of  thought,  to  dominion. 
"Without  slaves  domestic  life  seems  to  him  impracticable  ;  and 
without  domestic  life  no  state  can  exist.  Thus  all  Plato's 
ideals  vanish  away.  Aristotle  combats  Plato's  views  on  the 
necessity  of  an  equal  division  of  land  with  the  acute  observa- 
tion that,  in  that  case,  the  numbey  of  children  must  always 
correspond  with  the  number  of  parents,  which  is  impossible. 
He  is  still  more  strongly  opposed  to  the  community  of  goods, 
on  the  ground  that  this  would  deprive  mankind  of  the  incen- 
tive to  labor  which  is  supplied  by  the  desire  to  possess  prop- 
erty and  to  transfer  it  to  others.  He  points  out  further  that 
disputes  would  not  be  avoided  by  such  means,  for  it  is  well 


340  PHILOSOPHY  AND  LITERATURE. 

known  that  an\ong  those  wlio  have  common  possession  of  any 
property  disputes  are  the  rule. 

While  thus  holding  fast  the  principles  which  are  the  basis 
of  all  political  life,  Aristotle  fixes  his  eyes  mainly  on  the  po- 
litical system  of  the  existing  Hellenic  state.  In  politics,  as 
elsewhere,  his  circle  of  vision  is  wider  than  that  of  Plato.  He 
makes  a  distinction  between  the  Greeks  and  the  barbaric  na- 
tions to  the  north  and  east.  Among  the  Northern  barbarians, 
says  he,  is  to  be  found  military  courage,  which  enables  them  to 
maintain  their  freedom  :  among  the  Eastern,  adaptability  and 
cleverness,  but  a  want  of  courage,  so  that  their  freedom  is  not 
maintained.  The  Greeks  are  distinguished  by  the  combina- 
tion of  courage  and  intellect,  so  that  with  all  their  intellectual 
activity  they  still  remain  free.  Certain  remarks  on  monarchy 
may  seem  to  imply  that  Aristotle  had  the  rising  kingdom  of 
Makedonia  in  his  eye:  the  teacher  of  Alexander  the  Great 
may  well  have  held  such  views.  But,  when  we  look  more 
closely  at  what  he  says,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  monarchy  rec- 
ommended by  Aristotle  has  little  in  common  with  the  Make- 
donian — an  absolute  power  indissolubly  connected  with  the 
nation  by  the  right  of  hereditary  descent.  Aristotle  rejects 
the  very  quality  which  is  the  most  prominent  characteristic 
of  monarchy,  namely,  heredity,  on  the  ground  that  the  best  of 
monarchs  may  leave  behind  him  a  thoroughly  worthless  heir. 
He  approves  of  monarchy  only  in  case  the  nation  is  unfit  to 
govern  itself.  From  this  point  of  view  the  idea  of  aristocracy 
is  connected  with  that  of  monarchy.  The  chief  point  in  favor 
of  these  forms  of  government  is  that  the  idea  of  the  state  can- 
not be  grasped  and  represented  by  the  masses  so  well  as  by 
one  man  or  even  as  by  a  small  body  of  persons.  The  evil 
which  Aristotle  aims  at  remedying  is  the  supremacy  of  the 
democratic  movement,  which  in  his  day  ruled  far  and  wide  in 
Greece.  He  disapproves  of  despotism,  and  is  careful  to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  monarchy ;  but  it  appears  to  liim  a  still  greater 
evil  that  the  people  should  be  seduced  by  demagogues  into 
illegal  acts ;  for  on  such  occasions,  says  he,  demagogues  be- 
come the  minions  of  the  populace. 

Nevertheless  the  basis  on  which  everything  rests  is,  accord- 
ing to  Aristotle,  the  community.     The  community  has  con- 


AKISTOTLE.  3^1 

trol  of  peace  and  war.  Office  is  not  to  be  conferred  by  lot, 
but  those  persons  are  to  be  preferred  who  are  fitted  for  it 
by  wealth  or  other  qualifications.  The  members  of  the  com- 
munity are  not  to  devote  themselves  to  agriculture  or  trade ; 
their  business  is  to  defend  and  administer  the  state.  In  his 
scheme  of  education  Aristotle  will  not  allow  gymnastics,  which 
fit  men  for  the  former  duty,  to  predominate,  but  gives  equal 
prominence  to  music.  Music  is  the  very  language  of  the 
emotions,  and  impresses  itself  on  the  temperament  for  life. 
But  it  is  only  good  for  education ;  the  full-grown  man  must 
never  practise  it ;  he  is  to  devote  himself  with  all  his  heart 
to  public  affairs.  Here  we  find  Plato  and  Aristotle  again  in 
agreement.  The  grand  aim  of  both  philosophers  is  the  forma- 
tion of  a  sapient  spirit,  at  once  desirous  and  capable  of  exer- 
cising power  for  the  common  good.  The  elementary  concep- 
tions on  which  their  scheme  is  based  are  identical  in  their 
origin  and  form  one  harmonious  whole  —  the  divine  spirit 
that  rules  the  universe,  the  human  being  trained  to  intellectual 
activity,  the  supremacy  of  the  wise  within  tlic  state. 


Chapter  IX. 

RELATIONS  OF  PERSIA  AND  GREECE  DURING  THE  FIRST  HALF 
OF  THE  FOURTH  CENTURY  B.C. 

Was  the  development  of  ideas  which  we  have  traced  in 
the  previous  chapter  strong  enough  to  maintain  itself  against 
the  material  forces  that  threatened  it  with  destruction  ?  The 
importance  of  the  answer  to  this  question  must  be  evident  at 
the  very  first  glance.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  age  that,  while 
the  great  minds  of  Greece  were  oj^ening  out  new  ways  for  the 
future  life  of  all  mankind,  the  Grecian  states  wasted  their 
strength  in  separate  and  individual  efforts.  The  idea  of  na- 
tionality found  no  one  to  represent  it.  Even  the  great  con- 
test wuth  Persia,  which  hitherto  had  kept  alive  the  national 
feeling  of  Greece,  was  no  longer  maintained.  The  voice  of 
opposition  was  not  altogether  silenced;  on  the  contrary,  it 
still  gave  forth  at  intervals  a  resonant  and  vigorous  note. 
But  the  concluding  events  of  tlie  Peloponnesian  war  made  it 
clear  that  this  feeling  no  longer  exercised  any  real  influence. 
The  centre  of  the  forces  that  moved  the  world  lay,  it  must  bo 
allowed,  in  the  alliance  between  the  Persian  monarchy,  as  it 
appeared  in  Asia  Minor,  and  the  Lakedcemonian  power,  as 
developed  througli  the  struggle  with  Athens.  The  most 
powerful  men  of  the  day  were  Cyrns  the  Younger,  who  rep- 
resented the  Achaemenidee  in  Asia  Minor,  and  Lysander,  who 
was  employed  in  overthrowing  democracies  wherever  he  found 
them,  and  in  setting  up  oligarchies  of  the  Lakedoemonian  type. 
All  that  happened  is  to  bo  traced  to  their  initiative.  The 
forces  of  the  Lakedajmonians  and  their  allies  by  land  and  sea 
worked  in  harmony  with  the  Pcreian  gold  which  supplied 
their  equipment.  The  vitality  possessed  by  this  combination 
was  derived  from  the  fact  that  the  Persian  satraps  and  the 
mercenary  states  of  Greece  were  indispensable  to  each  other. 


CYRUS  AND  ARTAXERXES.  343 

But  in  other  respects  the  alliance  was  fleeting  and  insecure, 
for  neither  Cyrus  nor  Lysander  was  master  of  the  situation  in 
his  own  country.  The  latter  had  many  enemies  in  Sparta, 
and  still  more  in  the  rest  of  Greece :  the  former  was  subject 
to  the  orders  of  the  Great  King,  who  naturally  followed  his 
own  interests. 

It  was  an  undertaking  of  the  widest  import  when  Cyrus 
the  Younger  resolved  to  place  himself,  by  the  aid  of  Grecian 
arms,  on  the  throne  of  Persia.  A  pretext  was  found  in  a 
point  left  unsettled  by  the  constitutional  law  of  that  country. 
It  was  matter  of  dispute  whether  the  right  of  succession  be- 
longed to  the  eldest  son,  or  to  the  son  born  first  after  his 
father's  accession  to  the  throne.  The  accession  of  Xerxes 
had  been  decided  by  the  fact  that  he  was  born  during  the 
reign  of  Darius.  On  similar  grounds,  when  Darius  Nothus 
died,  Cyrus  the  Younger,  the  only  son  born  during  his  fa- 
ther's reign,  claj^med  the  preference  over  his  brother  Arta- 
xerxes.  On  this  occasion,  as  before,  the  queen  was  for  the 
younger  brother,  but  could  not  bring  her  consort  over  to  his 
side.  Artaxcrxcs,  surnamod  Mnemon,  became  king;  Cyrus 
was  appointed  satrap  of  Lydia  and  the  regions  that  bordered 
on  the  sea."*^  It  was  no  ordinary  satrapy  which  thus  fell  to 
the  lot  of  the  king's  son :  he  was  described  in  his  father's 
edict  as  Karanos,  tliat  is,  Lord  or  Sovereign,  a  special  title 
such  as  was  not  unfrequently  conferred  upon  satraps  related 
to  the  royal  house.  But  Cyrus  was  not  cont-ented  with  this 
honor.  He  considered  himself,  in  virtue  of  his  personal  qual- 
ities, more  capable  than  his  brother  of  filling  the  post  of  king. 
Artaxerxes,  we  are  told,  was  of  a  gentle  nature,  a  lover  of 
peace,  of  genial  and  placable  disposition — a  character,  in  fact, 
well  suited  to  the  representative  of  Ormuzd.  Cyrus,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  ambitious,  adventurous,  and  warlike — a  sol- 
dier after  the  manner  of  those  Greek  mercenaries  whom  he 
attracted  in  considerable  numbers  to  his  flag. 


*  The  words  of  Plutarch  (Artax.  2),  6  irpeajSvrfpog  a-mMxBr]  jSamXevg, 
'Apra^epKilQ   fi^TOVOfiadOeig,  Kvpog   Se   AvSiag   carpdirriQ   Kai   twv  tTri    Qa\uaai]g 

arpanjyoQ,  secm  to  imply  that  the  appointment  to  the  satrapy  did  not  de- 
pend upon  the  caprice  of  Artaxerxes. 


344:  .     PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

Cyrus  not  only  considered  himself  worthy  of  the  throne 
and  justified  in  taking  possession  of  it,  but  he  was  resolved  to 
attempt  its  conquest.  With  this  object  in  view,  he  summoned 
the  Lakedsemonians  to  his  aid,  expressly  reminding  them  of 
the  service  he  had  done  them  in  the  late  war.  The  Ephors, 
while  refusing  to  declare  themselves  openly  for  him,  were 
satisfied  of  the  justice  of  his  request.  They  sent  a  fleet  to 
Cilicia  to  prevent  the  satrap  of  that  country,  who,  like  other 
provincial  governors,  was  naturally  inclined  to  support  the 
king,  from  opposing  the  march  of  Cyrus.  They  willingly 
granted  permission  to  the  Peloponnesian  soldiery  to  take  ser- 
vice with  the  pretender,  and  Clearchus,  one  of  the  best  of 
their  captains,  was  expressly  empowered  to  serve  under  him. 
Thereupon  a  very  considerable  body  of  troops,  thirteen  thou- 
sand in  number,  was  collected,  and  the  army,  meeting  with 
little  resistance  in  Asia  Minor,  set  out  on  its  march,  in  order 
to  win  the  Persian  crown  for  the  ally  of  Lakedaemon.  In 
short,  it  was  through  the  support  of  Cyrus  that  the  Lakedse- 
monians  had  overpowered  Greece ;  it  was  through  the  aid  of 
Lakedaemon  that  Cyrus  was  now  to  become  lord  and  master 
of  Persia.  It  was,  indeed,  matter  of  doubt  whether  the  alli- 
ance of  Greek  mercenaries  with  the  pretender  to  the  Persian 
throne  was  likely  to  exercise  a  decisive  and  general  influence 
on  affairs.  Even  had  the  attempt  proved  successful,  had  Ar- 
taxerxes  been  overthrown  and  Cyrus  set  up  in  his  place,  the 
Greeks  would  probably  have  played  a  subordinate  part,  like 
that  which  they  performed  at  the  side  of  the  Ilellenizing  Pha- 
raohs of  Egypt.  But  it  is,  nevertheless,  undeniable  that,  even 
under  these  circumstances,  the  aspect  of  the  world  would  have 
undergone  a  change.  Cyrus  would  have  met  with  opposi- 
tion, and  would  have  remained  dependent  on  Grecian  support. 
The  Greeks  would  have  retained  a  certain  share  in  the  do- 
minion founded  by  their  aid,  and  would  have  extended  their 
influence  to  the  farthest  parts  of  Asia.  It  was  a  question  of 
life  and  death  for  the  Persian  empire  whether  it  would  be 
able  to  resist  this  attack  or  not. 

"When  the  two  armies  met  in  the  plain  of  Cunaxa,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Lower  Euphrates,  it  at  first  appeared  probable 
that  the  expedition  of  Cyrus  would  bo  crowned  with  success. 


THE  TEN  THOUSAND.  3^5 

His  Greek  allies,  familiar  as  they  were  with  the  practice  of 
war,  and  led  by  an  experienced  commander,  advanced  in 
steady  array,  and  made  a  sudden  and  vigorous  attack  upon 
the  enemy.  The  attack  was  successful.  The  Persian  squad- 
rons opposed  to  them — hastily  collected,  ill  equipped,  and  de- 
void of  military  experience — were  routed  at  once.  The  battle 
seemed  to  be  won,  and  Cyrus  was  saluted  as  king;  but  the 
body  of  picked  and  disciplined  troops,  in  wliose  midst  was 
Artaxerxes  himself,  still  held  together  in  unshaken  order. 
Cyrus  had  to  engage  in  a  personal  combat  with  his  brother. 
The  historians  are  full  of  this  duel,  which  not  only  supplied 
food  for  Oriental  fancy,  but  reminded  the  Greeks  of  the  sto- 
ries of  a  mythical  age,  and  especially  of  the  combat  between 
Eteocles  and  Polyneikes.  The  stor^-,  however,  rests  upon  no 
solid  foundation.  All  that  we  can  be  certain  of  is  that  Cyrus 
made  a  strong  impression  on  the  enemy's  centre;*  that  Tis- 
saphernes  restored  order  among  his  troops,  and  that  in  the 
hand-to-hand  struggle  which  ensued  Cyrus  was  killed. 
~  The  object  of  the  expedition  was  a  purely  personal  one;  on 
the  death  of  the  pretender  it  came  to  an  end  at  once.  The 
Grecian  leaders  fell  victims  to  the  treachery  of  the  Persian 
allies  of  Cyrus,  whose  only  thought  was  now  to  make  peace 
with  the  Great  King ;  but  the  Greek  troops,  led  by  the  Athe- 
nian Xenophon,  though  much  reduced  in  numbers,  made 
good  their  retreat.  Their  march  has  won  imperishable  re- 
nown in  the  annals  of  military  history  as  the  Retreat  of  the 
Ten  Thousand.  It  is  a  proof  of  the  military  skill  which  ev- 
ery individual  Greek  had  made  his  own,  that  they  were  able 
to  adapt  their  tactics  to  their  needs,  and  to  repel  the  attacks 

*  This  is  to  be  seen  from  Diodorus  (xiv.  22).  This  author's  account 
of  the  battle  is  in  other  respects  more  intelligible  than  that  of  Xeno- 
phon, who  draws  from  Ctesias.  Plutarch's  narrative  aims  at  clearing 
Cyrus  from  the  reproach  of  rashness :  hence  he  explains  the  caution  of 
Clearchus  as  fear.  The  additions  which  Plutarch,  in  his  life  of  Arta- 
xerxes, has  drawn  from  Ctesias,  sound  altogether  fabulous,  and  Plutarch 
himself  ends  by  laughing  at  them.  The  story  that  the  Great  King  was 
wounded  and  carried  off  the  field,  and  that  order  was,  in  spite  of  this, 
restored,  and  the  battle  won,  does  not  agree  with  the  Persian  character, 
as  it  appears  in  the  battles  of  Issus  and  Arbela.  Diodorus  probably  used 
Ephorus  as  an  authority. 


346  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

of  light-armed  troops.  In  the  face  of  the  greatest  dangers 
and  difficulties,  and  through  the  midst  of  savage  tribes  still 
living  in  ancestral  freedom,  they  pressed  forward  on  their 
homeward  way.  At  length,  as  we  read  in  the  impressive 
narrative  of  Xenophon,  they  beheld  the  sea,  and  saluted  it 
with  joyful  shouts  of  "Thalatta!  Thalatta!"  The  sea  was 
their  own,  and  safety  was  before  them  at  last. 

This  march  must  not  be  regarded  as  a  mere  adventure. 
Rightly  considered,  it  will  be  seen  to  have  had  results  of  far- 
reaching  importance.  The  Persian  satraps  could  not  avoid 
calling  the  Lakedaamonians  to  account  for  the  attack  on  the 
Great  King,  in  which  they  had  taken  part.  Tissaphernes, 
who  now  came  again  to  the  front  after  the  fall  of  Cyrus  the 
Younger,  renewed  the  war  in  Asia  Minor.  It  may  be  open 
to  dispute  whether  the  renewal  of  hostilities  between  Persia 
and  Lakedaemon  was  one  of  the  circumstances  which  enabled 
the  Athenians  to  reorganize  their  republic  in  the  way  de- 
scribed above,  but  it  is  certain  that  it  introduced  a  new  phase 
in  the  relations  of  Greece  and  Persia. 

The  expedition  of  the  Ten  Thousand  had  at  least  one  re- 
markable result.  The  old  idea  of  an  invasion  of  Asia  awoke 
to  new  life  in  the  breasts  of  the  Lakedaemonians.  Derkylli- 
das,  at  the  head  of  an  army  composed  of  Lakedaemonians  and 
their  allies,  took  possession  of  the  Troad.  Hereupon  the  two 
satraps,  Tissaphernes  and  Pharnabazus,  came  to  an  under- 
standing, and  made  proposals  of  peace,  but,  these  proposals 
appearing  dangerous  to  the  Lakedaemonians,  the  ill-feeling 
ripened  into  the  determination  to  renew  the  ancient  war. 
Agesilaus,  the  youthful  king  of  Lakedaemon,  was  sent  over 
to  Asia.*  In  this  expedition  Homeric  ideas  were  revived, 
and  Agesilaus,  before  his  departure,  offered  a  sacrifice  at  Au- 
lis,  though  not  without  experiencing  opposition  from  the 
Thebans,  his  former  allies. 

Herodotus,  as  we  have  seen,  regarded  Jiis  story  of  the  Per- 
sian wars  as  a  continuation  of  the  Iliad.  The  Lakedaemoni- 
ans, while  carrying  on  the  war  against  Persia  single-handed, 

♦  Tlio  crossing  took  place  in  the  year  000,  and,  as  may  be  inferred 
from  Xenophon,  in  the  spring  of  that  year. 


AGESILAUS.  347 

sought  to  enlist  on  their  side  the  sympathies  aroused  by  the 
ancient  conflict  between  Greece  and  Asia.  But  this  concep- 
tion of  the  struggle  was  purely  imaginary :  its  real  origin  was 
very  different.  The  satraps  had  been  eager  to  avenge  upon 
the  Lakedaemonians  the  unsuccessful  attack  upon  Artaxerxes, 
and  the  Lakedjemonians  now  retaliated  with  all  the  bitterness 
of  personal  animosity.  Agesilaus  was,  indeed,  no  apt  repro- 
duction of  an  Homeric  hero :  he  was  small  and  spare  in  stat- 
ure, and,  moreover,  lame  of  one  foot.  But,  having  orig- 
inally had  no  prospect  of  succeeding  to  the  throne,  he  had 
been  brought  up  in  all  the  severity  of  Spartan  discipline. 
He  was,  consequently,  temperate  and  patient,  obedient  to  the 
orders  of  his  state,  ever  a  friend  of  her  friends,  a  foe  of  her 
foes,  and  unscrupulous  in  her  service,  while  his  generalship, 
cool  and  crafty,  enabled  him  always  to  deal  a  blow  where  it 
was  least  expected.  The  men  of  Ionia  trooped  again  to  the 
standard  of  a  king  who  traced  his  descent  from  Heracles,  and 
from  their  ranks  ho  formed  a  body  of  cavalry  capable  of 
meeting  the  hitherto  invincible  horsemen  of  Persia.  Agesi- 
laus infused  warlike  ardor  into  all  around  him.  Ephesus 
awoke  from  torpor,  and  appeared  a  very  workshop  of  Mars. 
The  opinion  gained  ground  that  the  Persians,  individually, 
were  no  match  for  the  Hellenes,  and  were  consequently 
doomed  to  defeat — an  opinion  which  long  ago  had  emboldened 
the  Greeks  to  encounter  the  whole  weight  of  the  Persian 
monarchy.  A  considerable  naval  force  was,  at  the  demand 
of  Agesilaus,  stationed  on  tlio  Asiatic  coast.  The  enthusi- 
asm of  ancient  days  was  revived. 

Agesilaus  was  at  first  successful,  and  won  two  victories  in 
Plirygia  and  Lydia  over  Tissaphernes.  These  victories  not 
only  gave  the  Greeks  the  upper  hand,  but  brought  about  the 
destruction  of  their  chief  opponent.  Tissaphernes  lost  the 
confidence  of  the  king,  and,  at  the  instigation  of  the  Queen- 
Mother,  still,  as  of  old,  his  enemy,  atoned  for  his  misfortune 
with  his  life.  After  defeating  Tissaphernes,  Agesilaus  at- 
tacked Pharnabazus  with  equal  success.  In  a  battle  against 
him,  which  lie  won  by  means  of  a  surprise,  some  survivors  of 
the  Ten  Thousand,  led  by  a  general  whom  Agesilaus  had 
placed  over  them,  won  the  honors  of  the  day.     Agesilaus  had 


348  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

already  entered  into  friendly  relations  with  a  distinguished 
Persian  named  Spithridates,  and  with  Otys,  king  of  Paphla- 
gonia,  and  had  brought  about  a  matrimonial  connection  be- 
tween them,  as  the  best  means  of  damaging  the  power  of 
Persia.  Thus,  victorious  in  Asia  Minor,  welcomed  by  the 
lonians,  supported  by  a  fleet  which  gave  him  command  of 
the  sea,  and  sure  of  the  unfailing  adherence  of  Sparta,  he  oc- 
cupied a  position  of  great  importance,  and  seriously  endan- 
gered the  power  of  the  Great  King. 

But,  as  we  have  often  had  to  remark  before,  the  alliance 
between  Greeks  and  barbarians  showed  itself  evanescent.  In 
the  battle  with  Pharnabazus,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying 
all  his  treasures  with  him  during  a  campaign,  a  large  amount 
of  plunder  was  taken.  The  Paphlagonian  cavalry  made  an 
attempt  to  carry  this  away,  but  the  Lakedsemonians  were  as 
eager  for  gold  and  booty  as  the  barbarians.  They  took  from 
the  Paphlagonians  as  much  as  they  could,  in  order  to  sell  it 
to  the  merchants  w^io  followed  the  army  for  the  purpose 
of  buying  spoil.  Indignant  at  this  conduct,  the  followers  of 
Spithridates  and  Otys  deserted  the  Greek  army,  and  an  al- 
liance so  full  of  promise  for  the  future  was  thus  dissolved. 
Nevertheless,  Agesilaus  would  still  have  inflicted  severe  losses 
on  the  Persians,  had  not  the  latter,  in  accordance  with  their 
ancient  policy,  turned  to  the  Greeks  at  home.  They  had 
learned  from  the  Lakedfemonians  how  Greeks  were  to  be  met 
in  war.  The  method  which  they  had  found  so  efficacious  in 
their  struggle  with  Athens,  an  alliance  with  the  enemies  of 
that  city  among  the  Hellenes,  was  now  adopted  against  the 
Lakedaemonians,  when  the  latter  threatened  to  endanger  their 
power.  The  Lakedcemonians  in  alliance  with  Cyrus  had 
made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  interfere  in  the  internal  af- 
faire of  the  Persian  empire.  But  the  Persians  now  succeeded 
in  shaking  the  power  of  Lakedoemon  by  interfering  in  the 
internal  affairs  of  Greece,  and  stirring  up  hostile  feelings 
against  Sparta  on  every  side.  Xenophon  informs  us  how 
much  money  was  expended  by  Tithraustes,  the  successor  of 
Tissaphernes,  in'  decoying  away  from  allegiance  to  Sparta 
some  of  the  leading  men  of  Argos,  Corinth,  and  even  Thebes. 
lie  was  fully  aware  of  the  misunderstanding  between  Sparta 


THE   CORINTHIAN  WAR. 

and  her  allies,  which  had  already  shown  itself  in  the  oppo^ 
sition  of  Thebes  to  the  sacrifice  performed  by  Agesilaiis  at 
Aulis.  Athens,  too,  had  recovered  sufficient  strength  to  join 
the  anti-Spartan  league  thus  formed,  and  needed  no  bribe  to 
stimulate  her  activity. 

It  w^as  again  a  territorial  dispute  between  Locris  and  Phokis 
that  lit  the  flames  of  civil  war.  The  Thebans  hastened  to  the 
aid  of  one  of  the  combatants,  the  Lakedasmonians  to  that  of 
tlie  other.  Lysander,  tlie  man  who  had  made  the  league  with 
Persia  which  should  have  shifted  the  dominion  of  the  world, 
was  the  first  victim  of  the  struggle.  He  fell  in  a  battle 
against  the  Boeotians,  and  all  Greece  was  stirred  by  tlie  event. 
Meanwhile  danger  threatened  Sparta  from  another  quarter. 
Conon,  one  of  the  Athenian  commanders,  had  after  the  defeat 
of  ^gospotami  made  his  escape  to  Cyprus,  where  the  Greek 
element  was  still  powerful.  With  his  assistance,  a  fleet  was 
equipped  in  the  Pho3nician  ports,  which  remained  faithful  to 
the  king.  The  Lakedtemonians,  hitherto  reckoned  as  the 
king's  allies,  were  now  regarded  as  his  most  dangerous  foes. 
The  allied  Phoenicians  and  Athenians  were  more  than  a  match 
for  the  fleet  of  Agcsilaus,  the  command  of  which  he  had  in- 
trusted to  his  brother-in-law  Peisander.  A  battle  took  place 
off  Cnidus,  in  August,  394.  At  the  first  sight  of  the  Athe- 
nian ships,  which  formed  the  van  of  the  opposing  fleet,  the 
allies  of  the  Lakedsemonians  took  to  flight.  Peisander,  think- 
ing it  shame  to  fly,  sought  his  fate  and  fell. 

About  the  same  time  the  quarrel  was  embittered  by  a  san- 
guinary collision  in  continental  Hellas.  Agesilaus  had  been 
obliged  to  give  up  his  great  undertaking  in  Asia.  He  had 
crossed  the  Hellespont,  for  a  direct  passage  across  the  iEgaean 
was  no  longer  possible,  and  returned  to  Greece.  Here  he 
won  a  decided  victory  over  the  allies  at  Coroneia,  but  the 
blow  did  not  restore  the  old  supremacy  of  Sparta.  In  Corinth 
the  opposite  faction  won  the  upper  hand,  and  war  broke  out 
between  that  city  and  Sparta.  Success  was  equally  balanced 
until  Iphicrates  came  to  the  front.  This  man,  an  Athenian 
by  birth  and  a  soldier  of  fortune,  had  gathered  round  him  a 
force  of  bold  mercenaries.  His  soldiers,  drilled  and  equipped 
after  the  Thracian  fashion,  according  to  methods  adopted  as 


350  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

early  as  the  Retreat  of  the  Ten  Thousand,  formed  a  body  of 
light-armed  troops  called  peltasts,  and  proved  more  than  a 
match  for  the  Spartan  hoplites  in  the  open  field.  It  was 
Persian  gold  that  produced  these  results,  for  the  Synedrion  at 
Corinth  received  money  from  Persia,  and  took  Iphicrates  into 
its  pay.  It  was  Persian  gold  again  that  enabled  Conon  to  re- 
store the  Long  Walh  at  Athens. 

A  few  rapid  but  crushing  blows  had  thus  entirely  changed 
the  aspect  of  affairs,  and  destroyed  the  Lakedaemonian  power 
in  continental  Greece.  The  military  superiority  of  Sparta 
disappeared,  and  with  it  all  her  prestige.  Nor  was  this  all. 
The  gravest  anxiety  was  felt  in  Sparta  when  Athens  began  to 
recover  herself,  and  to  set  about  the  restoration  of  her  ancient 
maritime  supremacy.  In  this  double  catastrophe  the  Lake- 
daemonians  felt  that  their  very  existence  was  at  stake,  and  a 
complete  revolution  in  their  policy  was  the  result.  There  had 
always  been  a  party  in  Sparta  which  disapproved  the  war 
with  Persia.  This  party  now  bestirred  itself  again.  Its  mem- 
bers declared  that  the  only  escape  from  the  troubles  in  which 
the  state  was  involved  lay  in  peace  with  Persia,  since  all  the 
misfortunes  which  they  had  experienced  were  due  to  the 
breach  with  the  king.  Antalkidas,  the  leader  of  this  party, 
had  attached  himself  to  Lysander,  and  maintained  his  princi- 
ples throughout  all  the  recent  troubles.  His  persistence  at 
length  obtained  a  hearing,  and  he  was  sent  first  to  Asia 
Minor,  and  then  to  the  Persian  court  at  Susa,  in  order  to 
restore  peace. 

The  conditions  which  were  found  satisfactory  and  accepta- 
ble to  both  sides  deserve  examination.  The  most  important 
of  them  was  that  which  concerned  the  division  of  power  be- 
tween Sparta  and  Persia.  After  the  turn  which  naval  affairs 
liad  taken,  Sparta  could  no  longer  maintain  the  authority 
which  she  had  won  on  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  and  in  the 
Archipelago.  On  the  contrary,  the  danger  was  that  the 
supremacy  in  those  districts  might  pass  into  the  hands  of  her 
foes,  especially  of  Athens,  now  fast  recovering  her  position. 
It  was  therefore  to  the  interest  of  Sparta  hereelf  that  the 
supremacy  should  bo  restored  to  the  Great  King.  For  Persia 
this  was  an  enormous  gain.     The  maritime  districts,  which 


PEACE  OF  ANTALKIDAS.  351 

for  years  had  been  the  object  of  continuous  war,  became  hers 
without  any  exertion  on  her  part,  simply  in  consequence  of 
the  mutual  rivalries  of  the  Greeks.  The  complications  in 
Cyprus  caused  some  difficulty,  but  since  the  Athenians  had 
won  the  upper  hand  here  as  elsewhere,  the  Spartans  without 
much  hesitation  resolved  to  acquiesce  in  the  restoration  of 
Persian  dominion  in  Cyprus.  In  one  point  only  they  showed 
some  respect  for  Athens.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the 
Athenian  dominion  over  Lemnos,  Imbros,  and  Scyros  was  of 
very  ancient  date.  Accordingly,  as  her  consent  was  wanted 
for  the  peace,  it  was  thought  well  to  leave  Athens  in  posses- 
sion of  the  three  islands.  But  all  the  Greek  towns  in  Asia 
Minor  were  to  be  under  the  Great  King.  In  a  word,  the 
prizes  for  which  Greece  and  Persia  had  struggled  so  long 
were  given  up  by  Lakedaemon  to  her  ancient  enemy,  and  care 
was  taken  that  no  other  party  should  be  able  to  claim  them 
for  some  time  to  come. 

But  this  was  only  one  side  of  the  peace.  Lakedaemon,  see- 
ing herself  thwarted  and  endangered  by  the  close  alliance  be- 
tween Argos  and  Corinth,  and  by  the  fairly  compact  power 
of  Thebes,  obtained  from  the  Great  King  the  decision  that 
all  towns  in  Greece  should  be  autonomous.  In  this  direction 
the  ideas  of  Brasidas  had  long  ago  pointed,  and  Sparta  had 
declared  the  independence  of  the  colonies  and  subject  districts 
to  be  the  principle  for  which  she  took  the  field.  The  revolu- 
tion which  had  proved  impracticable  on  the  earlier  occasion, 
Sparta  now  endeavored  to  carry  out  over  a  wider  area.  It 
was  not,  however,  Athens  that  was  aimed  at,  for  her  league 
had  not  been  re-established,  but  Thebes,  which  exercised  a 
supremacy  over  the  confederation  of  free  Boeotian  cities,  of 
which  she  was  the  head.  This  supremacy  could  no  longer  be 
suffered  to  exist.  In  its  suppression  the  Great  King  was  in- 
terested, for  it  was  only  from  such  confederations  that  danger 
to  the  newly  established  state  of  things  could  arise,  but  the 
chief  gain  was  on  the  side  of  Sparta,  which  would  thus  be 
enabled  to  get  rid  of  a  dangerous  rival  to  her  power.  She 
persuaded  the  Great  King  to  threaten  with  active  hostility 
any  state  that  should  oppose  the  arrangement  just  concluded. 
Strange  complications  of  policy  I     Lakedaemon,  wuth  the  sup- 


352  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

port  of  Persian  gold,  had  overthrown  Athens.  Then,  when 
the  dispute  between  Sparta  and  Persia  occurred,  it  was  main- 
ly through  the  exertions  of  Athens  that  forces  were  brought 
into  the  field  against  the  former,  to  cope  with  which  her 
strength  proved  insufficient.  To  avoid  the  destruction  that 
was  impending,  Sparta  again  appealed  to  Persia  for  aid.  In 
this  way  the  decisive  voice  in  the  affairs  of  Greece  came  to  be 
that  of  the  Great  King  and  his  satraps  in  Asia  Minor.  He 
now  allied  himself  with  Lakedsemon,  in  order  to  introduce  a 
system  into  Greece  which  should  render  hopeless  any  attempt 
to  build  up  a  compact  political  union.  In  order  to  save  her- 
self, Lakedsemon  was  willing  to  see  the  rest  of  Greece  de- 
stroyed. By  the  first  article  of  the  peace  the  immediate  do- 
minion of  Persia  was  widened  to  no  small  extent.  By  the 
second,  Persia  obtained  a  sort  of  suzerainty  over  Greece. 
This  was  the  upshot  of  the  Peace  of  Antalkidas  (387  b.c). 
The  power  of  the  Greeks  in  Asia  was  thereby  given  up,  and 
a  system  of  extreme  decentralization  was  established  in  Hellas 
itself.  Sparta,  however,  and  Sparta  alone,  retained  her  ancient 
preponderance. 

At  first  all  seemed  to  go  well.  No  sooner  did  the  Spartans 
perform  the  usual  sacrifices  on  the  frontier,  preparatory  to  an 
invasion  of  the  Theban  territory,  than  the  Thebans  found 
themselves  obliged  to  surrender  their  authority  over  Boeotia. 
The  Spartans  followed  up  this  stroke  by  warning  the  Corin- 
thians to  expel  the  Argive  garrison  from  their  city,  and  the 
Argives  to  withdraw  their  forces.  Tliereupon  the  garrison 
retired,  and  the  exiled  aristocrats  were  enabled  to  return. 
Lastly,  Mantineia  was  compelled  to  dissolve  its  union ;  the 
inhabitants  thenceforward  lived,  as  before,  in  villages.  The 
Spartans  everywhere  took  up  the  cause  of  the  weaker  party, 
for  instance,  that  of  Platoea  in  Boeotiir,  and  of  Pisa  in  Elis. 
All  who  belonged  to  this  category  thus  became  their  friends. 
They  re-established  the  Peloponnesian  League,  and  ruled  over 
it  unopposed.  But  with  one  city,  namely,  Tliebes,  the  peace 
was  by  no  means  secure,  and  here  it  was  that  a  rising  took 
place  which  proved  fatal  to  the  Spartan  power.  We  come  to 
that  page  of  history  on  which  the  names  of  Thebes  and  Epa- 
mcinondas  are  most  prominently  inscribed. 


LEONTIADES  AND  PHGEBIDAS.  353 

In  Thebes  the  ob'garchs  and  democrats,  under  their  respec- 
tive leaders,  were  engaged  in  a  deadly  struggle.  A  Spartan 
army  under  the  command  of  Phoebidas,  destined  to  carry  out 
the  stipulations  of  the  peace  in  Chalkidike,  passed  by  the  city. 
This  gave  the  oligarchs  their  opportunity.  At  the  invitation 
of  their  leader,  Leontiades,  who  wished  to  gain  the  support  of 
Sparta,  Phoebidas  surprised  and  occupied  the  citadel  of  the 
Cadmeia.*  It  is  not  necessary  to  assume  that  he  had  direct 
commands  from  Sparta  to  undertake  this  enterprise.  Agesi- 
laus  once  remarked  that  a  general  was  not  forbidden  to  act 
occasionally  on  his  own  initiative  ;  the  only  point  was  whether 
his  act  was  expedient  or  not.  Now  nothing  could  have  ap- 
peared more  expedient  than  the  seizure  of  the  citadel  of 
TJiebes.  That  citadel  formed  a  strong  position  on  the  great 
road  to  the  north,  and  Leontiades  had  expressly  proposed  that, 
so  soon  as  the  oligarchy  should  be  restored  in  Thebes,  the 
Thebans  should  unite  with  the  Spartans.  Phoebidas  himself 
is  described  to  us  as  an  ambitious  man,  desirous  of  distinguish- 
ing himself,  but  lacking  in  real  caution. 

The  result  of  the  event  was  what  might  have  been  foreseen. 
Tlie  democrats,  expelled  by  the  victorious  oligarchs,  found 
refuge  in  Athens,  as  Thrasybulus  on  a  former  occasion  had 
found  refuge  in  Thebes.  Some  years,  however,  elapsed  be- 
fore they  were  able  to  return.  At  length,  aided  by  their  ac- 
quaintances in  the  city,  they  came  back,  and,  with  mingled 
ferocity  and  cunning,  rid  Thebes  of  the  Polemarchs  who  ruled 
her.f     This  event  brought  prominently  forward  the  two  men 

*  Curtius  places  the  occurrence  in  01.  99,  2  =  483  B.C.,  Clinton  in  01. 
99,3. 

t  Plutarch,  in  the  "  Life  of  Pelopidas,"  chaps.  7-12,  and  in  the  treatise 
on  the  Daemon  of  Socrates,  gives  a  detailed  narrative  of  this  event,  which 
it  is  impossible  to  read  without  interest.  I  confess  that  I  can  see  in  his 
story  nothing  but  a  romantic  and  highly  colored  account  of  a  simple 
event.  What  Xenophon  tells  us  is  no  doubt  the  truth,  and  even  he 
found  different  versions  of  the  story  already  in  existence.  The  simplest 
of  these  is  perhaps  contained  in  the  words  "  ijg  KutfiatTTdg  ei<jEX96vTag  Tovg 
dfi<l)i  MiXwva  diroKTiivai  rovg  TroXsfidpxovg  "  (Xen.  "  Hell."  V.  4,  7).  That 
there  was  a  banquet  is  certain  ;  whether  the  murderers  really  introduced 
themselves  in  the  guise  of  women  is  very  doubtful ;  as  for  the  rest  of  the 
story,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  it.     The  event  took  place  in  01. 

23 


354  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

whose  names  are  imperishably  linked  with  that  of  Thebes, 
Pelopidas  and  Epameinondas.  The  former  led  the  returning 
democrats,  the  latter  prepared  tlie  Theban  youth  to  aid  them 
in  their  attempt  when  the  decisive  moment  should  arrive. 

Epameinondas  was  descended  from  a  family  which  traced 
its  origin  to  the  times  of  Cadmus,  a  family  of  limited  means, 
but  widely  known  for  hospitality.  Among  others  a  disciple 
of  Pythagoras,  whose  school  had  been  dispersed  in  all  direc- 
tions, just  then  sought  refuge  in  Thebes,  and  became  an  in- 
mate of  the  house.  Epameinondas,  in  his  youth,  took  part 
in  all  that  Hellenic  education  demanded,  but  grew  up  princi- 
pally under  the  care  of  this  old  philosopher,  whose  instruc- 
tion he  preferred  to  every  other  amusement.  Under  him 
he  probably  acquired  a  habit  for  which  he  was  much  com- 
mended, the  habit,  that  is,  of  listening  with  self-restraint  and 
attention  to  every  one  who  spoke  to  him,  and  of  withholding 
his  objections  till  the  speaker  had  concluded  his  remarks. 
His  was  one  of  those  characters  in  which  moderation  and 
temperance,  prudence  and  self-respect,  a  quiet  and  thoughtful 
judgment,  seem  to  be  innate.  Such  qualities  cannot  fail  to 
impress  all  who  come  in  contact  with  them,  and  to  secure  for 
their  possessor  a  certain  moral  authority.  Epameinondas  was 
so  poor  tliat  he  is  said  to  have  been  obliged  to  remain  at  home 
when  his  cloak  was  at  the  fuller's,  but  the  uprightness  which 
he  showed  in  all  positions  of  trust  procured  for  him,  espe- 
cially in  the  conduct  of  financial  affairs,  a  leading  position. 
The  excesses  of  Boeotian  festivity  had  no  attraction  for  him. 
He  was  so  taciturn  that  one  of  his  friends  remarked  he  was 
acquainted  with  no  one  who  knew  so  much  and  said  so  little : 
but  what  he  said  was  so  much  to  the  point  as  to  become 
proverbial.  In  his  military  exercises  he  paid  attention,  not  so 
much  to  the  development  of  bodily  strength  as  to  activity 
and  the  proper  use  of  weapons.  He  is  said  to  have  bidden 
the  young  men  about  him  not  to  take  credit  for  their  strength, 
but  rather  to  count  it  shame  that  they  tamely  endured  the  do- 
minion of  the  Lakcdcemonians  in  spite  of  their  own  supcrior- 

100,  2,  in  the  winter  of  the  year  879  B.C.  (Plutarch,  "Pelopidas,"  chap. 
2:  cf.  Xen. "  Hell."  V.  4,  14). 


PELOPIDAS  AND  EPAMEINONDAS.  355 

itj.  Even  a  narrow  and  exclusive  patriotism  can  give  birth 
to  feelings  of  enthusiasm,  provided  that  it  summon  the  tradi- 
tions of  a  glorious  past  to  aid  it  in  shaking  off  the  opprobrium 
of  the  present.  Such  patriotism  is  fostered  by  rivalry  with 
neighboring  states,  especially  when  the  latter  are  of  overpow- 
ering strength.  The  splendid  personal  qualities  of  Epamei- 
nondas,  his  culture,  his  zeal  in  gymnastic  exercises,  his  mili- 
tary talents,  his  generalship,  so  inventive  and  original  as  to 
amount  to  genius,  shone  with  peculiar  lustre  owing  to  the 
fact  that,  before  all  things,  he  was  a  good  Theban. 

Pelopidas,  though  belonging  to  a  wealthy  and  distinguished 
family,  attached  liimself  closely  to  Epameinondas.  Through 
his  friendship  Epameinondas  was,  as  it  were,  raised  to  an 
equality  witli  the  class  to  which  Pelopidas  belonged.  On 
one  occasion  Epameinondas  refused  to  leave  Pelopidas  when 
grievously  wounded,  determined  that  at  any  rate  the  enemy 
should  not  have  his  corpse.  He  made  use  of  tlie  influence 
gained  by  such  devotion  to  draw  his  friend  over  to  liis  views. 
In  the  undertaking  through  which  Thebes  was  freed  Pelopi- 
das was  the  most  prominent  figure.  But  his  success  would 
not  have  been  permanent  had  not  the  youth  of  Thebes  been 
brought  up  under  the  influence  of  Epameinondas,  and  pre- 
pared to  take  advantage  of  tlie  occasion. 

In  circumstances  wliere  the  general  interests  of  Hellas  were 
at  stake,  Greek  patriotism  was  seldom  active.  It  was  promi- 
nent where  the  interests  of  separate  states  were  concerned ; 
and  among  the  states  of  Greece  Thebes  was  not  unimportant. 
She  could  claim  to  be  regarded  as  the  third  city  of  Hellas, 
and  it  was  due  to  the  efforts  of  these  two  friends  that  this 
claim  became  a  reality.  On  the  department  of  military  af- 
fairs they  bestowed  the  most  attentive  study.  War  was  now 
becoming  a  science  and  an  art,  and  from  Agesilaus  himself, 
in  his  re]3eated  invasions  of  Boeotia,  they  are  said  to  have 
learned  much.  Their  primary  object  was  to  overthrow  the 
autonomy  established  by  the  Peace  of  Antalkidas.  They  re- 
covered their  hold  upon  Platsea,  and  in  a  short  time  we  find 
the  Boeotarchs  reappearing  as  Theban  officials. 

Plutarch  relates  a  conversation  between  Epameinondas  and 
Agesilaus,  which  sets  clearly  before  us  the  importance  of  this 


356  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

dispute.  To  the  question  whether  Thebes  would  leave  the 
cities  of  Bffiotia  free,  Epameinondas  answered  with  the  ques- 
tion whether  Sparta  would  give  the  Messenians  their  freedom. 
The  weapon  which  the  Peace  of  Antalkidas  had  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Sparta  was  thereby  turned  against  Sparta  lierself. 
The  question  could  only  be  decided  by  an  appeal  to  arms. 
The  Thebans  knew  well  how  to  develop  the  tendency  to 
comradeship  which  was  common  to  all  Greeks,  and  is  based 
upon  personal  honor ;  and  the  result  was  the  Sacred  Band. 
The  Spartan  hoplites  found  their  match  in  the  Theban  infan- 
try, while  to  the  Theban  cavalry  they  had  nothing  to  oppose. 
The  Spartan  king,  Cleombrotus,  stung  by  the  suspicion  of 
leanings  towards  Thebes,  determined  upon  battle  under  the 
excitement  of  a  banquet.  The  Thebans  had  the  advantage 
of  a  leader  in  Epameinondas,  whose  cool  judgment  enabled 
him  to  take  advantage  of  every  opportunity.  On  the  plain 
of  Leucti*a  the  Spartans  were,  for  the  first  time  in  history, 
completely  defeated  (July  7  or  8,  b.c.  371). 

In  the  two  Theban  leaders,  as  we  have  seen,  there  throbbed 
a  pulse  for  the  greatness  of  their  state,  which  urged  them, 
even  against  the  will  of  their  fellow-countrymen,  to  the  bold- 
est efforts.  The  year  after  the  battle  they  undertook,  chiefly 
at  the  invitation  of  the  Peloponnesians,  an  invasion  of  Laconia. 
In  this  attempt  it  would  appear  that  they  exceeded  their  pow- 
ers, for  in  the  army  there  were  many  who  raised  their  voices 
against  the  campaign.  This,  however,  only  spurred  them  to 
greater  exertions,  in  order  to  anticipate  a  change  of  feeling 
which  might  force  them  to  give  way  to  leaders  whose  opin- 
ions differed  from  their  own.  The  allies  joined  forces  at  Sel- 
lasia,  and  marched  down  the  valley  of  the  Eurotas.  The  Spar- 
tan ladies  were  horror-struck  when  they  beheld  tlie  smoke  of 
burning  villages  driving  over  the  plain.  Agesilaus  is  said  to 
have  been  unable  to  conceal  his  admiration  when  he  saw 
Epameinondas,  but  it  was  due  to  his  courageous  resistance 
that  the  Thebans  met  with  a  rebuff  at  the  Hippodrome  in 
front  of  Sparta.  This,  however,  did  not  hinder  the  restora- 
tion of  Messenia.  To  the  music  of  Argive  and  Ba^otian  flutes 
a  new  city  arose  on  Ithome,  the  scene  of  Messenian  exploits 
in  days  of  old.    The  Periceki  and  Helots,  whom  it  was  no 


ATTITUDE  OF  ATHENS.  357 

longer  possible  to  distinguish  from  Messenians,  were  admitted 
to  all  the  privileges  of  the  latter. 

This  done,  Pelopidas  and  Epameinondas  returned  to  Thebes, 
and  were  actually  brought  to  trial  for  acting  without  orders. 
"Let  us  then  set  up  a  column,"  said  Epameinondas,  "with  an 
inscription  that  I  was  condemned  because  I  compelled  you  to 
conquer  at  Leuctra ;  because  I  made  all  Greece  free  in  one 
day ;  because  I  restored  Messenia,  and  surrounded  Sparta  with 
a  perpetual  blockade."  In  words  like  these  we  see  that  lofty 
self-respect  which  in  later  times  has  been  regarded  as  a  dis- 
tinctive feature  of  the  Roman  character. 

At  this  time  everything  in  Greece  depended  on  the  attitude 
of  Athens.  It  appeared  to  be  her  interest,  at  a  crisis  so  disas- 
trous to  Sparta,  to  form  an  alliance  with  the  enemies  of  her 
ancient  foe.  A  popular  assembly  was  held,  in  which  the 
Athenians  were  reminded  of  the  wrongs  which  they  had  re- 
peatedly suffered  at  the  hands  of  Spartans,  and  of  the  con- 
stant efforts  of  Sparta  to  undermine  the  greatness  of  Athens. 
But  these  times  were  long  past,  and  even  a  popular  assembly 
can  pass  resolutions  in  which  passion  has  no  part.  In  Athens 
the  ancient  hate  of  Sparta  gave  way  before  a  new-born  jeal- 
ousy of  Thebes.  The  Athenians  felt  that  if  they  made  com- 
mon cause  with  the  Thebans  to  crush  Lakedgemon,  their  own 
destruction  at  the  hands  of  the  former  would  be  the  speedy 
and  certain  consequence.  They  tlierefore  resolved  to  support 
the  Lakedsemonians  with  all  their  force,  a  step  which  at  once 
checked  the  progress  of  Thebes.  In  the  conflict  that  arose, 
it  was  a  matter  of  no  small  moment  that  Sparta  still  possessed 
the  benefit  of  Persian  aid.  An  envoy  of  thePhrj-gian  satrap, 
Ariobarzanes,  appeared  at  Delphi.  His  primary  object  was 
to  establish  a  compromise.  This  failing,  he  made  use  of  the 
money  with  which  he  was  abundantly  provided,  to  raise  an 
army  of  mercenaries  in  aid  of  Sparta.  In  this  manner  an  al- 
liance was  formed  between  Persia,  Athens,  and  Sparta,  which 
seemed  calculated  to  restore  the  prestige  of  Sparta,  so  griev- 
ously shaken  by  Thebes.  To  escape  destruction,  the  Thebans 
hit  upon  the  idea  of  claiming  Persian  help  for  themselves 
(368-7  B.C.).  Such  reversals  of  policy  had  already  taken 
place  in  Greek  history.     A  similar  step  had  been  taken  by 


358  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

Athens  during  the  Peloponnesian  war,  and  by  Sparta  in  the 
time  of  her  greatest  peril. 

Even  Pelopidas  so  far  overcame  his  pride  as  to  seek  lielp 
in  person  at  the  court  of  Artaxerxes.  The  first  Persian  war 
was  not  yet  forgotten,  and  the  remark  of  Pelopidas,  that  the 
present  enemies  of  Thebes  had  been  of  old  the  most  formi- 
dable opponents  of  the  Great  King,  won  him  admission  to 
the  Persian  court.  It  was,  moreover,  clear  that  the  Persians 
would  never  have  anything  to  fear  from  Thebes ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  Athens,  now  in  alliance  with  Sparta,  was  dis- 
playing a  restless  and  dangerous  activity.  She  had  restored 
the  ancient  league  of  Delos.  The  recollection  of  her  former 
greatness  impelled  her,  as  of  old,  towards  the  coast  of  Asia 
Minor,  and  fostered  in  Athenian  bosoms  a  spirit  of  hostility 
to  Persia.  It  might  be  said  that  the  Spartans  were  now  rather 
the  allies  of  the  Athenians,  than  Athens  the  ally  of  Sparta. 

It  thus  came  about  that  the  influence  over  Grecian  affairs, 
which  Persia  constantly  exerted  herself  to  maintain,  now  en- 
tered upon  a  new  phase.  The  king  broke  off  his  connection 
with  Sparta,  and  lent  a  willing  ear  to  the  proposals  of  Pelopi- 
das. The  Persians  had  hitherto  rejected  the  Theban  claim 
that  the  enactments  of  the  Peace  of  Antalkidas  should  be  ex- 
tended to  Messenia.  The  king  now  made  amends  by  issuing 
an  edict  that  Messenia  should  be  recognized  as  independent 
of  Sparta,  while  at  the  same  time  he  warned  the  Athenian 
fleet  to  put  back  again  into  port.  A  Persian  ambassador  ac- 
companied Pelopidas  back  again  to  Thebes  in  order  to  prove 
the  authenticity  of  this  edict  by  showing  the  seal  appended 
to  it.  We  are  not  informed  that  tlie  execution  of  the  king's 
commands  was  supported  by  presents  of  money,  and  we  may 
infer  the  contrary  from  the  fact  that  the  Arcadians,  who  had 
taken  part  in  the  embassy  to  Persia,  complained  of  the  pov- 
erty of  the  king's  treasury,  and  declared  that  not  even  a  grass- 
hopper could  find  shelter  in  the  fabled  shade  of  his  golden 
plane-tree.  Nevertheless,  the  declaration  of  the  king,  whom 
the  Greeks  were  now  accustomed  to  regard  as  a  sort  of  ar- 
biter in  their  disputes,  was  of  great  importance  to  Thebes, 
and  enabled  her  to  establish  an  understanding  with  Argos 
and  Messenia. 


TREATY  BETWEEN  PERSIA  AND  THEBES.  359 

Tegea  and  a  great  part  of  Arcadia  were  also  allied  with 
Thebes,  hut  another  part  of  Arcadia,  under  the  leadership  of 
Mantineia,  had  deserted  the  Thebau  league.  In  order  to  re- 
cover the  latter,  Epameinondas  again  took  the  field.  A  bat- 
tle took  place  at  Mantineia  in  which  all  the  forces  of  Greece 
met  in  conflict.  A  final  decision  seemed  to  hang  upon  the 
event.  Epameinondas  displayed  all  the  foresight  and  mili- 
tary talent  peculiar  to  him,  and  was  on  the  point  of  winning 
the  day,  when  he  was  mortal!}^  wounded  by  an  arrow.  He 
would  not  allow  it  to  be  withdrawn  until  he  had  heard  that 
the  Thebans  were  victorious.  He  died  as  a  Theban,  for  the 
independence  of  Thebes  —  we  can  hardly  say  for  the  inde- 
pendence of  Hellas. 

By  means  of  the  recent  treaty  between  Persia  and  Thebes 
the  influence  of  the  former  upon  the  internal  affairs  of  Greece 
was  advanced  a  step  further,  and  was  only  confirmed  by  the 
issue  of  the  battle,  the  result  of  which,  especially  owing  to  the 
death  of  Epameinondas,  was  by  no  means  decisive.  Xenophon, 
who  breaks  off  his  history  at  this  point,  expresses  an  opinion 
that  a  balance  of  power  among  the  Grecian  cities  and  states 
still  existed.  Athens  had  been  prevented  by  Sparta  from 
usurping  the  hegemony  of  Hellas.  Sparta  had  been  thwarted 
by  Athens  and  Thebes.  Thebes  was  now  held  in  check  by 
Athens  and  Sparta.  This  state  of  things  prevented  the  for- 
mation of  a  compact  power,  or  even  the  union  of  all  Grecian 
states  in  a  common  confederation.  The  more  powerful  states 
were  constantly  engaged  in  warfare  with  each  other,  and 
dragged  the  weaker  into  the  conflict.  Their  only  aim  was  to 
get  possession  of  the  means  which  enabled  them  to  overpower 
their  neighbors.  Once  accustomed  to  draw  subsidies  from 
abroad,  the  Spartans  scrupled  not  to  accept  payment  from 
those  who  were  engaged  in  rebellion  against  the  king.  When 
the  king  gave  judgment  against  them  in  the  question  of  Mes- 
senia  and  formed  an  alliance  with  Thebes,  the  Spartans  felt 
no  further  obligation  towards  him.  It  is  a  blot  on  the  char- 
acter of  Agesilaus  that,  after  being  the  first  to  undertake  a 
great  war  against  the  Persians,  he  now  entered  the  service  of 
a  tyrant  of  Egypt.  His  assistance  conferred  some  solidity  on 
the  Egyptian  revolt,  established  ITectanebus  on  the  Egyptian 


360  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

throne,  and  confirmed  the  independence  of  Egypt  for  some 
years. 

A  complete  change  in  the  political  situation  had  not  been 
contemplated  by  Agesilaus.  The  chief  motive  of  his  action 
was  the  necessity  under  which  the  Spartans  lay  of  obtaining 
extraneous  assistance  against  their  Hellenic  neighbors.  Such 
assistance  Agesilaus  provided  for  them.  Ncctancbus  dis- 
missed him  with  a  considerable  present  of  money.  Agesilaus 
died  on  the  way  home  (358  b.c),  but  the  money  which  he 
brought  with  him  reached  Laconia,  and  the  Spartans  were 
again  enabled  to  play  an  active  part  in  the  wars  of  Greece. 
The  anti-Spartan  league  was  still  in  existence,  and  found  the 
support  it  needed  in  the  restored  power  of  Mcssenia.  The 
warfare  never  ceased.  Diodorus  mentions  five  battles  in  one 
year.  In  the  first  of  these  the  Lakedgemonians  won  a  victory 
over  a  far  more  numerous  body  of  the  enemy,  while  in  the 
three  following  battles  the  allies  had  the  upper  hand.  The 
fifth,  however,  and  the  most  important  of  all,  was  a  victory 
for  Lakedaemon.     An  armistice  was  the  result. 

We  have  already  pointed  out  the  danger  to  all  Hellas  in- 
volved in  the  selfishness  which  produced  the  Peace  of  Antal- 
kidas.  Eut  the  state  which  suffered  most  was  Sparta  herself. 
She  bled  to  death  from  the  wounds  which  she  thought  to  in- 
flict upon  others.  Sparta  was,  indeed,  no  longer  the  Sparta 
of  Lycurgus.  The  introduction  of  the  Perioeki  and  Helots 
into  the  army,  which  had  lately  been  determined  on,  was  at 
variance  with  his  ideas.  Moreover,  so  many  of  the  Spartiates 
had  fallen  in  the  late  wars  tliat  the  old  democratic  aristocracy 
which  they  formed  had  no  longer  any  vitality.  Aristotle  rec- 
ognizes only  one  thousand  families  of  the  ancient  Spartiates ; 
and  their  landed  possessions,  the  very  groundwork  of  their 
state  and  its  discipline,  had  in  great  measure  passed  into  the 
hands  of  women.  The  time  when  Sparta  could  maintain  her 
supremacy  single-handed  was  gone  by.  Athens,  at  this  time 
allied  with  Sparta,  could  on  her  side  no  longer  maintain  the 
restored  naval  league.  Wlien  she  attempted  to  revive  lier 
old  supremacy,  Chios,  Rhodes,  and  Cos,  probably  with  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Carian  despot,  Mausolus,  rose  in  rebellion 
against  Iicr.    On  the  outskirts  of  the  league,  Byzantium  was 


DECLINE  IN  THE  POWER  OF  GREECE.  361 

in  revolt.  Athens  was  no  longer  strong  enough  to  reduce 
the  rebels  to  obedience.  In  an  attack  upon  Chios,  Chabrias 
perished.  He  might  have  saved  himself  by  swimming,  but 
held  it  unworthy  of  him  to  leave  his  ship,  and  preferred  to 
die  on  board  with  arms  in  his  hand.  Chares  was  not  the  man 
to  replace  the  fallen  admiral,  and  Athens  had  to  content  her- 
self with  retaining  the  smaller  islands  in  her  league.  A  power 
so  mutilated  was  very  different  from  that  which  had  been 
once  so  formidable. 

This  decay  in  the  power  of  Athens  and  Sparta,  and  of 
Greece  in  general,  cannot  be  attributed  to  want  of  energy. 
The  science  and  practice  of  war,  both  by  land  and  sea,  had 
never  been  carried  to  a  higher  pitch  of  excellence.  The  gen- 
erals mentioned  to  us  by  name  appear,  without  exception,  to 
have  been  experienced  and  thoughtful  commanders.  But,  as 
we  have  seen  even  in  Pelopidas,  they  had  no  idea  of  a  great 
confederation  which  could  embrace  all  individualities.  It  has 
been  already  remarked  that  patriotic  feelings  were  found  only 
in  connection  with  separatism,  a  national  peculiarity  which  it 
has  been  reserved  for  the  history  of  Germany  to  repeat.  The 
development  of  military  strength  in  individual  states,  and  the 
weakness  of  the  nation  at  large,  were  to  each  other  as  cause 
and  effect.  With  the  feebleness  of  the  Greek  republics  the 
development  of  the  mercenary  system  went  hand  in  hand. 
Mercenaries,  ready  to  serve  any  one  for  pay,  were  the  only 
troops  now  worthy  of  the  name  of  soldiers. 

At  this  epoch  the  Persian  power  again  rose  to  a  dangerous 
height.  After  a  sanguinary  and  fratricidal  contest,  Artaxerxes 
Ochus  had  ascended  the  throne  of  Persia  (359-8  b.c).  Arta- 
bazus,  who,  as  Karanos  of  x\sia  Minor,  held  a  position  supe- 
rior to  that  of  an  ordinary  satrap,  undertook  to  make  himself 
independent,  and,  with  the  aid  of  Greek  mercenaries,  was  at 
first  successful  in  repelling  the  satraps  sent  against  him.  A 
corps  of  Thebans  were  his  chief  support.  The  king  defeated 
the  rebellious  satrap  by  sending  a  sum  of  three  hundred  tal- 
ents to  the  Thebans,  who  thereupon  deserted  their  employer. 
Artabazus  was  forced  to  fly,  and  took  refuge  with  Philip,  king 
of  Makedonia. 

The  growing  power  of  Persia  caused  much  anxiety  to  the 


362  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

Greeks,  and  it  was  proposed  at  Athens  to  take  the  lead  of  the 
Hellenic  race  in  a  national  war  against  the  Persians.  But 
Demosthenes,  the  leading  orator  of  his  time,  declared  himself 
against  the  proposal.  He  objected,  and  doubtless  with  good 
reason,  that  the  Persian  king,  if  attacked,  would  raise  enemies 
against  the  Athenians  in  Greece  itself  and  imperil  the  safety 
of  Athens.  Demosthenes  refrained  from  opposing  feelings  so 
deeply  rooted  in  the  national  mind  as  those  which  centred 
round  a  war  with  Persia,  but  he  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
Athens  must  first  of  all  muster  all  her  resources  and  make  her- 
self formidable,  for  not  till  then  would  she  find  allies  for  the 
great  undertaking.  Regarded  independently  of  these  consid- 
erations, the  occasion  was  no  unfit  one  for  attacking  the  Per- 
sians. Not  only  did  Egypt  under  Nectanebus  continue  to 
maintain  a  hostile  attitude  towards  the  king,  but  just  at  this 
moment  Phoenicia,  too,  broke  out  in  revolt.  It  is  not  clear 
whether  the  rebellion  began  with  a  casual  insurrection,  or 
owing  to  a  formal  resolution  in  Tripolis.  At  any  rate,  the 
Phoenicians  struck  a  close  alliance  with  Nectanebus,  and  de- 
stroyed the  pleasure-house,  or  ^aradeisos^  in  which  the  Per- 
sian magnates,  when  they  visited  the  country,  used  to  reside. 
Many  Persians  who  had  been  guilty  of  acts  of  violence  were 
murdered.  The  neighboring  satraps  were  not  slow  in  mak- 
ing war  upon  the  rebels,  but  their  attacks  were  repelled  by 
the  Prince  of  Sidon,  who  had  summoned  to  his  aid  a  strong 
body  of  Greek  mercenaries  from  Egypt.  Cyprus,  too,  joined 
the  league.  The  nine  so-called  kings  of  the  cities  of  Cyprus 
hoped,  through  the  Phoenician  insurrection,  to  obtain  their 
own  independence,  and  therefore  joined  in  the  revolt.  If  the 
Greeks  had  taken  part  in  these  movements  the  Persian  power 
would  have  been  exposed  to  great  danger. 

Just  the  opposite,  however,  took  place.  The  Prince  of  Ca- 
ria,  summoned  by  Artaxerxes  against  Cyprus,  not  only  col- 
lected a  goodly  fleet,  but  also  an  army,  over  which  the  Athe- 
nian Phokion  was  placed  in  command.  Phokion  had  little 
difficulty  in  reducing  the  Cyprian  princes.  At  this  moment 
Ochus  had  brought  together  a  great  force  by  sea  and  land, 
with  which  ho  hoped  to  subdue  both  Egypt  and  Plioenicia. 
At  sight  of  this  army,  which  made  as  formidable  an  appear- 


THE  EGYPTIAN  REVOLT.  363 

ance  as  any  by  which  the  Phoenicians  had  been  defeated  on 
previous  occasions,  the  Prince  of  Sidon  lost  courage.  He 
resolved,  without  further  scruple,  to  betray  his  allies,  the 
Egyptians,  to  the  king,  for  it  was  only  by  paying  this  price 
that  he  could  hope  for  forgiveness.  He  sent  the  king  secret 
information  that  he  was  in  a  position  to  give  him  the  best 
opening  for  the  conquest  of  Egypt,  being  on  good  terms  with 
many  in  the  country,  especially  with  the  dwellers  on  the 
coasts.  Ochus  is  said  to  have  hesitated  for  a  moment,  gladly 
as  he  heard  these  proposals,  before  accepting  them  by  stretch- 
ing out  his  right  hand — the  form  which  was  necessary  to  ren- 
der his  acceptance  valid.  The  envoy  declared  that,  if  this 
were  not  done,  his  master  would  consider  himself  released 
from  all  his  promises,  whereupon  Artaxerxes  Ochus  gave  the 
desired  assurance.  Sidon  was  betrayed  to  the  Persians  by  a 
horrible  act  of  treachery  on  the  part  of  its  own  prince,  who 
had  won  over  the  Greek  mercenaries  to  insure  success  for  his 
plan.  In  the  midst  of  violence  and  treason  the  inhabitants 
of  Sidon  once  again  displayed  the  unconquerable  resolution 
of  the  ancient  Phoenician  race.  They  had  burned  their  ships 
in  order  that  no  one  might  withdraw  himself  by  flight  from 
the  duties  of  defence.  Now  that  the  foe  was  within  their 
walls,  they  shut  themselves  up  and  set  fire  to  their  houses. 
The  number  of  the  dead  was  reckoned  as  high  as  forty  thou- 
sand. In  spite  of  his  plighted  word.  King  Ochus  put  to  death 
the  prince  who  had  betrayed  his  cit3^ 

His  death  did  not  interfere  with  the  campaign  against 
Egypt,  for  which  Ochus  had  already  made  the  most  extensive 
preparations.  Special  embassies  were  sent  to  demand  aid  of 
the  Greek  cities.  Athens  and  Sparta  promised  to  remain 
neutral.  The  importance  of  this  is  clear  when  we  recollect 
that  it  was  these  two  cities  which  had  set  up  and  maintained 
the  independence  of  Egypt.  The  Thebans  and  the  Argives 
were  less  scrupulous.  They  had  no  hesitation  in  sending 
their  hoplites  to  help  the  Persians  against  Egypt.  The  Ar- 
gives were  led  by  Nicostratus,  a  man  of  enormous  bodily 
strength,  who  imagined  himself  a  second  Heracles,  and  went 
to  battle  clothed  in  a  lion's  skin  and  armed  with  a  club.  The 
mercenary  troops  from  Greece  and  Asia  Minor,  who  sailed  to 


364  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

the  aid  of  Artaxerxes,  formed  together  a  body  of  ten  thou- 
sand men.  When  we  consider  that  the  mercenaries  of  Greek 
descent  who  had  come  from  Egypt  also  went  over  to  tlie 
king,  the  success  of  the  latter  may  fairly  be  attributed  not  so 
much  to  the  Persian  force  as  to  the  Greeks  by  whom  he  was 
assisted. 

It  resulted  from  the  general  position  of  affairs  that  Necta- 
nebus  on  his  side,  too,  sought  aid  from  the  Greeks.  He  had 
made  all  possible  preparations,  but,  unfortunately,  he  neither 
possessed  the  qualities  requisite  for  the  control  of  so  large  a 
force,  nor  could  he  bear  to  stand  aside  and  leave  the  command 
to  the  mercenary  captains  who  were  capable  of  exercising  it. 
In  spite  of  their  promise,  some  Spartans  and  Athenians  had 
come  to  his  aid,  it  appears,  without  the  authority  of  their  gov- 
ernments, and  their  leaders,  Diophantus  of  Athens  and  La- 
mius  of  Sparta,  would  have  been  in  a  position  to  rescue  !N^ec- 
tanebus  if  he  had  left  them  freedom  of  action.  When  he 
retreated  to  Memphis  it  became  impossible  to  defend  Pelu- 
sium.  Among  the  Hellenes  on  either  side  a  strange  kind  of 
rivalry  made  its  appearance.  Although  in  hostile  camps, 
those  on  the  one  side  sought  to  excel  those  on  the  other  in 
feats  of  arms.  Nevertheless,  a  good  understanding  between 
the  Greek  mercenaries  and  the  Orientals,  whose  cause  they 
had  espoused,  could  not  long  be  maintained.  Moreover,  the 
old  prestige  of  the  Persian  monarch  recovered  its  influence 
with  the  Egyptians.  They  were  assured  that  the  sooner  they 
got  rid  of  the  Greek  garrisons  which  occupied  their  fortresses 
tlie  more  easily  would  they  recover  favor  with  the  king.  It 
had  always  been  so.  At  every  decisive  crisis  the  longing  to 
gain  the  king's  favor  had  led  to  the  submission  of  his  rebel- 
lious subjects.  The  Persians  were  now  laying  siege  to  Bnbas- 
tus.  The  Egyptians  betook  themselves  to  the  eunuch  Bagoas, 
who  possessed  the  chief  authority  in  the  king's  council,  and 
begged  him  to  use  his  influence  with  the  king  on  their  behalf. 
The  Greeks,  on  their  side,  discovered  this  intrigue,  and  com- 
municated with  Mentor,  the  commander  of  the  Greek  merce- 
naries in  the  pay  of  Persia,  who  liad  already  distinguished 
himself  at  the  capture  of  Sidon. 

It  must  be  allowed  that  the  course  taken  by  the  Egyptians 


THE  EGYPTIAN  REVOLT.  365 

was  but  natural.  The  Oriental  nations  who  fought  their  bat- 
tles with  Grecian  arms  were  well  advised  in  resolving  to  come 
to  terms  with  each  other  and  drive  out  the  Greeks.  But  this 
time  the  attempt  was  unsuccessful.  Mentor  promised  his  aid 
to  the  Greek  garrison,  and  when,  in  accordance  with  the 
wishes  of  the  Egyptians  in  the  town,  a  body  of  Persians 
inarched  in  to  expel  the  Greeks,  a  union  of  the  Greek  forces 
in  the  two  camps  took  place.  A  hand-to-hand  conflict  result- 
ed in  the  defeat  of  the  Persians  and  Egyptians.  Bagoas  was 
in  the  greatest  danger,  and  owed  his  life  only  to  the  interven- 
tion of  Mentor.*  The  combined  Greek  forces  might  possibly 
have  been  able  at  this  moment  to  wrest  Egypt  from  the  do- 
minion of  Persia.  But  what  could  they  have  done  with 
Egypt  ?  Mentor  had  no  intention  of  making  such  a  conquest. 
He  looked  at  the  question  from  the  point  of  view  of  personal 
interest,  and  concluded  a  treaty — so  we  are  positively  assured 
— with  Bagoas,  by  which  the  two  commanders  agreed  to  di- 
vide the  supreme  power.  Bagoas  promised  thenceforward  to 
do  nothing  without  previously  informing  Mentor  and  obtain- 
ing his  permission.  This  was  equivalent  to  a  partition  of 
power,  since  the  control  of  the  Persian  administration  was 
in  the  hands  of  Bagoas.  The  agreement  was  confirmed  by 
mutual  oaths,  and  was  faithfully  kept.  The  result  was  that 
Mentor  became  omnipotent  in  Asia  Minor.  He  collected  a 
large  body  of  Hellenic  mercenaries  for  the  service  of  Arta- 
xerxes,  and  in  his  new  position  displayed  both  prudence  and 
good  faith.  It  is  clear  that  these  events  changed  the  whole 
aspect  of  affairs  in  the  then  known  world.  Egypt  and  Asia 
Minor  again  obeyed  the  king  of  Persia,  and  it  was  Greek  in- 
tervention which  had  produced  this  great  result. 

The  historian  of  later  times  who  observes  the  mutual  rela- 
tions of  Greece  and  Persia  must  be  strongly  impressed  by  the 
fact  that  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  formed  a  really  inde- 
pendent power.      On  the  one  hand,  the  internal  affairs  of 

*  The  reduction  of  Egypt  is  placed  by  Diodorus  in  the  archonship  of 
Apollodorus,  b.c.  350-49.  Bockh  (on  Manetho  and  the  dog-star  period 
in  Schmidt's  "Zeitschrift  filr  Geschichtswissenschaft,"  ii.  p.  780)  places 
the  event,  in  accordance  -with  the  indications  of  Manetho,  in  the  year 
340  B.C. 


866  PERSIA  AND  GREECE. 

Greece  were  constantly  subject  to  the  influence  of  the  Great 
King.  On  the  other  hand,  the  empire  of  Persia  depended 
upon  the  support  which  it  received  from  the  military  resources 
of  Greece.  But  a  change  was  at  hand.  Between  these  two 
powers  a  third  arose  which,  starting  from  small  beginnings, 
speedily  threatcfied  to  become  the  strongest  of  the  three. 


Chapter  X. 

THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

Not  only  are  arms  indispensable  to  a  community  for  the 
purpose  of  external  action,  but  without  arms  it  is  inconceiv- 
able that  a  community  can  hold  together.  Mankind  at  large 
is  constantly  occupied  with  those  natural  hostilities  in  which 
nations  and  political  societies  become  involved.  Every  com- 
munity must  be  in  a  position  to  defend  itself  and  all  who 
belong  to  it,  otherwise  it  cannot  provide  the  necessary  pro- 
tection for  individual  freedom  and  activity.  The  security  of 
tlie  nation  as  a  whole  is  an  indispensable  condition  for  the 
security  of  the  individual.  To  maintain  this  security  is  the 
principal  object  of  human  combinations :  it  is  the  common 
aim  of  all  constitutions.  Care  is  bestowed  upon  this  object 
in  proportion  to  the  severity  of  the  hostilities  which  may  be 
expected,  and  the  Greek  republics  were  organized  only  for  a 
conflict  with  tlieir  equals.  But  when  whole  nations  come 
into  collision,  a  more  complete  political  organization  is  neces- 
sary. There  must  exist  a  supreme  authority  capable  of  unit- 
ing all  the  forces  of  the  nation  against  foreign  enemies.  In 
the  collision  of  powers  military  monarchies  are  formed,  whose 
success  depends,  not  so  much  upon  their  numerical  superiority, 
as  upon  their  military  organization.  War  is  inevitable,  and  a 
battle  lost  or  won  decides  the  fate  of  nations  for  ages  to  come. 
The  course  of  the  world's  history  depends  upon  attack  and 
resistance. 

What,  then,  is  a  power?  Only  such  a  national  community 
as  is  organized  and  equipped  alike  for  attack  and  defence. 
Neither  the  Greeks  nor  the  Persians  in  their  long  struggle 
with  each  other  had  been  able  to  arrive  at  such  an  organiza- 
tion. Between  these  two  the  Makedonians  now  made  their 
appearance,  and  the  Makedonians  succeeded  in  creating  a  real 


368  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

power.  The  influence  wliicli  they  exerted  may  be  fairly 
styled  immeasurable.  It  was  an  influence  w^hich  forms  an 
epoch  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

1.  Philip,  King  of  Mdkedon,  and  Demosthenes. 

Among  the  peoples  of  Thracian  nationality  who  occupied 
the  confines  of  Asia,  and  with  whom  the  Greeks  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  their  northern  colonies  came  in  contact,  powers 
of  native  origin  and  some  importance  had  now  and  then  been 
set  up.  Such  a  power  was  that  of  Sitalkes,  who  was  able  to 
bring  into  the  field  an  army  of  150,000  men.  These  powers 
were  of  short  duration.  It  was  different  with  the  dynasty, 
probably  of  Greek  origin,  which  ruled  in  the  mountainous 
territory  of  Emathia."^  This  dynasty  held  sway  over  a  group 
of  half-barbarian  clans  who  had  settled  in  that  district,  as 
others  had  settled  in  Epeirus.  Though  in  habitual  contact 
with  Thracians  and  Illyrians,  it  maintained  its  vitality,  and 
gradually  became  important.  Strabo  says  that  the  Makedonian 
people  consisted  of  Thracians  and  Illyrians,  but  it  is  undeni- 
able that  Hellenic  elements  contributed  in  a  greater  degree 
than  perhaps  any  other  to  the  formation  of  the  state.  It  is 
still  a  question  whether  the  Makedonians  should  be  regarded 
as  barbarized  Hellenes,  or  Hellenized  barbarians :  a  coalition 
of  both  elements  may  be  inferred  from  their  earliest  tradi- 
tions. This  is  of  importance  in  its  bearing  on  the  course  of 
universal  history,  into  the  scope  of  which  the  nation  in  ques- 
tion enters  at  this  point.  Originating  in  a  fusion  of  diverse 
elements,  and  surrounded  by  neighbors  belonging  to  a  differ- 
ent race,  it  presents  a  character  unique  in  history. 

Before  the  battle  of  Platiea,  the  Makedonian  prince  rode 

*  In  the  two  traditions  of  the  foundation  of  the  Makedonian  empire, 
given  by  Herodotus  (viii.  137)  and  by  Justin  (vii.  1),  who  repeats  Tlieo- 
pompus,  the  following  important  facts  are  common  to  both,  viz.  the  de- 
scent of  the  kings  from  Heracles,  the  mention  of  Midas,  the  first  seat 
of  their  power,  and  the  gradual  nature  of  their  conquest.  In  Eusebius 
there  is  a  further  legend  that  the  king  of  the  Orestians  being  at  war  with 
his  neighbors,  the  Eordians,  sought  help  of  the  Karanos  of  Makedon,  and 
gave  him  half  of  his  kingdom  as  recompense  (Eusebius,  i.  p.  237,  ed. 
SchOnc). 


ARCHELAUS  AND  AMYNTAS.  369 

lip  to  the  Grecian  camp  to  signify  his  sympathy ;  for,  as  he 
said,  he  was  a  Greek,  though  king  of  tlie  Makedonians.  The 
sum  of  Makedonian  history  consists  in  this  mutual  action  and 
reaction  of  the  Greek  and  Makedonian  elements  upon  each 
otlier. 

We  have  already  made  mention  of  King  Perdiccas,  who 
waged  war  with  his  neighbors  with  constant  fluctuations  of 
fortune.  For  his  own  purposes,  he  summoned  to  his  aid  the 
Lakedaemonians  under  Brasidas,  who,  in  helping  him,  took 
care  to  look  after  their  own  interests.  On  this  occasion  the 
superiority  of  Greek  military  skill  over  that  of  the  northern 
barbarians  first  made  itself  felt.  After  several  variations  of 
policy,  the  Illyrians  ventured  to  attack  the  Greeks,  to  whom 
they  were  vastly  superior  in  point  of  numbers.  The  speech 
which  Thukydides  puts  in  the  mouth  of  Brasidas  on  this  oc- 
casion is  of  importance  in  universal  history.  He  promises 
the  Greeks  that  they  will  repel  the  disorderly  and  noisy  attack 
of  the  Illyrians,  if  they  will  only  retreat  in  the  close  order  of 
battle  which  ho  had  taught  them  to  maintain.  The  success 
of  this  measure  was  complete,  and  aroused  universal  admira- 
tion. It  was  the  lirst  time  in  these  regions,  where  war  was 
still  conducted  in  barbaric  fashion,  that  an  arra}^  in  close  bat- 
tle array,  made  its  appearance  and  won  a  victory. 

Greek  culture  had  also  its  attractions  for  the  Makedonians. 
At  the  court  of  Archelaus*  poets  and  musicians  found  an 
asylum  in  which  they  were  disturbed  by  no  civic  strife.  There, 
it  was  said,  they  could  breathe  freely.  The  court  was,  how- 
ever, in  constant  dependence  on  the  Greeks,  whose  influence 
was  decisive  in  the  troubles  between  the  reigning  family  and 
its  subjects. 

Amyntas  had  himself  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  a  Greek  edu- 
cation, and  when,  upon  his  death,  which  took  place  in  370-69 

*  Arclielaus  was  son  of  Perdiccas,  whose  death  is  placed  in  the  archon- 
ship  of  Peisander,  01.  91,  3  =  414-13  B.C.  (Clinton,  "Fasti  Hell,"  ii.  p. 
223).  If  we  are  to  believe  Syncellus  (p.  263,  A.  ed.  Par.),  whose  state- 
ments about  the  dates  of  the  Makedonian  kings  are  taken,  according  to 
Scaliger,  from  Dexippus,  according  to  Karl  Miiller  ("Fragm.  Hist.  Graec." 
iii.  p.  672),  from  Porphyrins,  Archelaus  reigned  fourteen  years,  and  was 
murdered  in  the  archonship  of  Laches  (Diodorus,  xiv.  37),  b.c.  399. 

24 


370  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

B.C.,  fresh  disturbances  broke  out,  his  widow  Eurydike  sought 
help  of  the  Thebans.  Pelopidas  appeared  as  an  arbiter  be- 
tween the  parties,  and  the  queen  intrusted  to  him  her  young 
son  Phih'p,  who  followed  the  famous  general  back  to  Thebes. 
This  prince  was  Philip,  the  father  of  Alexander  the  Great. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  favorable  to  a  soldier's  edu- 
cation than  a  few  years'  sojourn  in  Thebes,  whose  military 
greatness  at  that  time  was  such  as  to  form  an  epoch  in  Grecian 
history.  Philip  lived  in  a  family  which  enjoyed  the  intimacy 
of  Epameinondas.  After  three  years  he  was  recalled  (365 
B.C.),  and  at  first  intrusted  with  the  administration  of  a  small 
district  under  his  brother's  rule.  After  the  death  of  the  lat- 
ter, a  career  of  the  widest  prospects,  but  full  of  danger,  lay 
before  him.*  The  land  was  threatened  by  Ulyrians  and  Pseo- 
nians,  while  a  number  of  pretenders  were  struggling  for  the 
throne,  and  supporting  themselves  by  the  aid  of  foreign  powers. 
In  this  plight,  Philip  set  about  the  formation  of  an  eflScient 
army  on  the  principles  of  Epameinondas,  whose  military  sys- 
tem undoubtedly  supplied  him  both  with  stimulus  and  ex- 
ample. Following  in  his  footsteps  he  gradually  developed  the 
phalanxjf  formed  a  body  of  peltasts  from  among  the  moun- 
taineers of  his  country,  and  established  a  well-drilled  body  of 
cavalry.  With  these  forces  he  repulsed  the  Ulyrians,  and 
compelled  their  garrisons  to  evacuate  the  Makedonian  towns 
which  they  had  occupied.  It  was  his  military  establishment 
wliich  gave  him  the  upper  hand  in  Makedonia. 

"  He  found  you,"  so  Arrian  makes  the  son  of  Philip  say  to 


•According  to  8atyrus,in  Athena5us,xiii.  p.  557  C,  Philip  ruled  twenty- 
two  years;  according  to  Diodorus(xiv.  1),  twenty-four  years;  according  to 
Syncellus,twenty-three  years.  As  Philip  was  murdered  in  the  second  half  of 
the  year  836,  in  the  archonship  of  Pythodemus,  the  beginning  of  his  reign 
should  be  set  about  the  year  359  B.C. 

tDiodorus  (xvi.2)  mentions  the  Homeric  Synattpismus^  or  locking  of 
shields,  which  Philip  imitated  (imvorjai  rj)v  ri/c  <f>a\ayyoQ  rrujcvori/ra  rat 
KOTatTKevijv,  fiifiijffdfuvoc  rbv  iv  TpoKf.  rwv  i}pu>uiv  ovvatTTriarfiov).  Eustathius, 
on  "Iliad," iv.  150,  remarks  that  Lycurgus  introduced  something  of  tho 
same  kind  in  his  legislation,  but  that  Lysander  was  the  first  to  introduce 
it  among  the  Spartans,  Charidemus  among  the  Arcadians,  Epameinondas 
among  tho  BcDotians. 


PHILIP  OF  MAKEDON.  371 

the  Makedonians,  "  clothed  in  skins,  feeding  your  sheep  upon 
the  mountains,  a  prey  to  Illyrians,  Triballi,  and  Thracians ; 
he  led  you  down  from  your  mountain  heights,  and  made  you 
a  match  for  your  enemies,  by  enabling  you  to  make  use  not 
only  of  the  roughness  of  your  country,  but  of  your  own  in- 
nate valor.  You  were  slaves  of  the  barbarians,  and  he  made 
you  their  leaders." 

A  king  of  their  own  blood  was  readily  followed  by  the 
aristocracy  of  the  land.  Philip  introduced  the  custom  that 
the  younger  members  of  the  noblest  families  sliould  do  ser- 
vice at  his  court,  and  accompany  him  in  the  chase.  In  this 
manner  incongruous  elements  united  to  lay  the  foundation  of 
anew  military  empire.  The  art  and  practice  of  war,  so  high- 
ly developed  by  the  Greeks,  were  combined  with  the  aristo- 
cratic and  popular  elements  which  rallied  to  the  banner  of  a 
native  king.  The  political  importance  of  tliese  reforms  lies 
in  this :  that  Philip,  w^hile  imitating  the  Greeks,  raised  up  an 
independent  power  at  their  gates.  He  not  only  emancipated 
Makedonia  from  the  dominant  Greek  influence,  but  he  raised 
his  country  to  a  position  of  vantage  whence  it  could  advance 
against  Greece. 

It  could  not  be  doubtful  for  a  moment  what  would  be  the 
aim  of  Philip's  first  efforts.  It  was  the  natural  object  of 
Makedonia  to  get  possession  of  the  stretch  of  coast  which 
w^as  occupied  by  the  Greeks.  Greek  disunion  was  in  this 
matter  Philip's  best  ally.  The  Greek  settlement  of  Olynthus, 
situated  on  the  coast  of  Thrace  and  Makedon,  on  the  very 
confines  of  either  nation,  and  in  alliance  with  all  its  neigh- 
bors, had  come  into  notice  during  the  times  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  war,  and  had  gradually  acquired  a  considerable  power. 
The  number  of  civic  communities  in  alliance  with  or  subject 
to  Olynthus  was  reckoned  at  about  thirty.  By  military  means 
this  city  kept  the  neighboring  Thracian  princes  in  dependence, 
and  held  control  over  Lower  Makedonia  with  its  mixed  popu- 
lation. A  better  support  for  Greece  in  general  than  such  a 
state  could  not  be  found,  and  it  was  especially  fitted  to  keep 
Makedonia  within  proper  bounds.  But  upon  the  fate  of 
Olynthus,  the  Peace  of  Antalkidas,  whether  intentionally  or 
by  chance,  had  a  destructive  influence. 


372  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

The  enactment  that  all  Greek  cities  were  to  be  autonomous 
was  carried  out  by  Sparta  in  the  north  as  well  as  elsewhere. 
This  was  just  what  the  Makedonians  wanted.  But  the  libera- 
tion of  subject  cities  was  not  carried  out  so  thoroughly,  in  the 
case  of  Olynthus,  as  to  prevent  that  city  from  quickly  rising 
again  to  a  considerable  power.  The  result  of  this  was  that 
she  came  into  collision  with  Athens,  just  then  occupied,  with 
the  connivance  of  Persia,  in  the  restoration  of  her  colonial 
empire.  While  Athens  seized  places  like  Methone  and  Pydna, 
the  Olynthians  succeeded  in  winning  Amphipolis,  a  town  on 
the  possession  of  which  the  Athenians  had  always  laid  the 
greatest  importance. 

This  rivalry  between  the  two  cities,  with  both  of  which 
Philip  had  to  deal  if  he  was  to  make  himself  master  of  his 
own  country,  was  of  the  greatest  assistance  to  him.  It  is  at 
this  point  that  we  first  make  acquaintance  with  the  double- 
dealing  and  unscrupulous  policy  with  which  Philip  consis- 
tently pursued  his  own  advantage.  In  the  shifting  course  of 
events  it  came  about  that  Amphipolis  received  a  Makedonian 
garrison.  Athenian  ambition  was  still  directed  towards  re- 
covering possession  of  that  town,  and  Philip  could  make  no 
greater  concession  to  Athens  than  by  withdrawing  his  troops. 
The  Athenians,  to  whom  he  had  agreed  to  hand  over  Amphip- 
olis, promised  him  in  its  stead  Pydna,  the  old  fortress  of  the 
Temenidse,  from  whom  the  Makedonian  kings  traced  their 
descent.  But  Philip  had  no  real  intention  of  handing  over 
Amphipolis  to  the  Athenians.  After  a  short  time,  he  garri- 
soned the  town  anew,  and  at  the  same  time  got  possession  of 
Pydna  (355  B.C.).  He  also  took  Potidaea,  and  handed  it  over 
to  the  Olynthians,  with  whom  he  was  anxious  to  keep  ou  good 
terms.     Lastly  he  garrisoned  Methone  (353  b.c). 

These  movements  resulted  in  open  war  between  Makedonia 
and  Athens,  a  war  destined  to  be  decisive  for  both  parties. 
It  was  a  war  of  arms  and  diplomacy.  Demosthenes,  whose 
sound  judgment  enabled  him  to  weigh  accurately  the  relative 
importance  of  facts,  defines  the  position  with  admirable  clear- 
ness from  a  military  point  of  view.*     lie  points  out  that 

♦  In  the  8d  Philippic,  §  47  sq.,  p.  123  sq. 


PHILIP  OF  MAKEDON.  373 

Philip  waged  war,  not  only  with  the  heavy-armed  phalanx, 
but  with  light-armed  troops,  cavalry,  archers,  and  mercena- 
ries. A  force  of  this  kind  was  entirely  different  from  that  of 
the  Lakedasmonians  and  other  Greek  states,  whose  troops  re- 
mained only  four  months  in  the  field,  and  then  returned  home. 
Pliilip,  on  the  contrary,  waged  war  at  all  seasons.  If  he 
found  no  opposition  in  the  open  country,  he  took  to  besieg- 
ing the  fortified  towns.  The  difference  between  his  diplo- 
macy and  that  of  his  enemies  was  not  less  important.  In  the 
democratic  republic,  everything  depended  upon  the  issue  of 
public  discussions:  the  king,  on  the  other  hand,  took  counsel 
only  with  himself.  Demosthenes  ascribed  the  losses  which 
Athens  suffered  principally  to  the  negligence  of  the  republi- 
can government,  and  consistently  maintained  that  it  was  the 
possession  of  Methone  and  Potidaea,  which  Philip  had  again 
occupied,  that  secured  his  control  over  the  whole  district. 

Philip  was,  in  fact,  the  incarnation  of  the  military  mon- 
archy. He  was  in  a  position  to  carry  out  his  plans  with  pre- 
cision the  moment  he  had  conceived  them.  Ilis  troops  were 
an  instrument  applicable  to  every  kind  of  service.  Athens 
was  at  this  moment  hampered  by  the  naval  war  which  result- 
ed in  the  loss  of  her  allies.  Philip,  on  the  other  hand,  through 
his  seizure  of  the  mines  of  Crenides,  famous  as  far  back  as 
the  time  of  Herodotus,  made  himself  master  of  a  source  of 
wealth  which  was  indispensable  for  the  payment  of  his  mer- 
cenaries. Both  from  the  political  and  military  point  of  view, 
he  was  now  entirely  independent. 

But  these  events,  important  as  they  were,  would  not  have 
alone  sufficed  to  make  his  success  permanent.  It  was  not  so 
easy  to  eradicate  the  ancient  influence  of  Athens  in  those  re- 
gions over  which  she  had  so  long  held  sway.  Other  events, 
however,  took  place,  which  gave  King  Philip  the  opportunity 
of  taking  up  a  position  in  the  centre  of  Greece,  and  dealing  a 
fatal  blow  at  Athens  from  that  point  of  vantage.  Among 
these  events  was  one  which  was  thoroughly  characteristic  of 
the  political  anarchy  then  prevailing  in  Hellas.  What  should 
have  proved  a  bond  of  union  for  the  Greeks,  led,  more  than 
anything  else,  to  their  disruption. 

The  Phokians,  who  shortly  before  had  been  freed  by  the 


374:  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIKE. 

Thebans  from  the  dominion  of  Sparta,  were  resolved  not  to 
put  up  with  the  dominion  of  Thebes.  They  were  eager  to 
secure  a  separate  independence,  and  resolved  to  rid  themselves 
forever  of  the  inconvenient  influence  exercised  by  the  Del- 
phic priestliood.  They  claimed,  on  the  authority  of  a  line  of 
Homer,  that  the  presidency  of  the  shrine  belonged  of  right  to 
them.  An  adventurous  leader  named  Philomelus  succeeded 
in  seizing  the  temple,  not  without  the  secret  support  of  Sparta, 
with  a  force  composed  of  Phokians  and  foreign  mercenaries 
(357-6  E.G.)."^  This  naturally  aroused  the  hostility  of  Thebes, 
and  under  Theban  influence  a  meeting  of  the  Amphictyonic 
Council  was  held,  at  which  it  was  resolved  to  protect  the  tem- 
ple, and  to  declare  war  upon  the  Phokians.  Philomelus  availed 
himself  of  the  treasures  of  the  temple,  as  Sparta  made  use  of 
Egyptian  money,  and  Philip  of  the  mines  of  Crenides.  But 
his  action  had  been  too  outrageous  to  allow  him  to  maintain 
his  position,  and  the  treasures  of  the  temple  were  insuflScient 
for  a  real  war.  Defeated  by  superior  forces,  and  wounded  in 
the  conflict,  Philomelus,  in  order  to  avoid  the  disgrace  of  capt- 
ure, threw  himself  from  a  precipice  (35tI:-3  e.g.).  The  situa- 
tion was,  however,  little  altered  by  his  death.  The  Phokians 
found  another  leader  in  Onomarchus,  the  head  of  one  of  their 
noblest  families.  This  man  took  the  place  of  Pliilomelns,  and 
managed,  by  dint  of  constant  warfare  with  his  neighbors,  to 
maintain  his  position. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  a  point  where  it  will  be  necessary 
to  explain  how  it  was  that  a  Makedonian  king  who  did  not 
belong  to  the  Hellenic  society  came  to  interfere  in  these  dis- 
turbances. It  came  about  as  follows.  The  Thessalians,  who 
of  old  belonged  to  the  Amphictyonic  league,  were  thoroughly 
at  one  with  Thebes  in  their  effort  to  put  an  end  to  the  dis- 
graceful state  of  things  at  Delphi.  But  among  themselves 
they  were  as  disunited  as  the  Greeks  in  general.  The  family 
of  the  Alcuadce,  who  exerted  a  dominant  influence  in  Thes- 
saly,  were  opposed  by  the  reigning  family  of  Phei*oe,  at  whose 
head  was  Lycophron.     Tliis  man,  perhaps  under  the  influence 

♦  Schflfer  ("  Demosthenes  und  seine  Zeit,"  ii.  p.  449)  fixes  the  beginning 
of  the  war  in  the  first  montlis  of  the  year  855  b.c. 


THE  SACKED  WAR.  375 

of  a  bribe,  made  common  cause  with  Onomarcbus,  cind  thns 
enabled  tbe  latter,  now  in  every  respect  well  armed,  to  con- 
template the  overthrow  of  the  Aleuadoe,  and  therewith  the 
reduction  of  the  whole  of  Thessalj.  The  centre  of  interest 
was  thus  transferred  from  the  general  dispute  to  a  quarrel  in 
the  interior  of  Thessaly,  the  most  important  aspect  of  which 
was  the  feud  between  the  tyrant  of  Pherse  and  the  Thessa- 
lians  in  alliance  with  the  Amphictyonic  league.  The  latter, 
finding  themselves  in  danger  of  being  crushed  by  Onomar- 
cbus, called  in  the  aid  of  Philip. 

Philip  at  first  met  Avith  considerable  success.  But  when 
Onomarchns  came  to  the  aid  of  Lycophron  with  superior 
forces,  the  king  had  to  give  way.  Twice  beaten  in  the  open 
field,  and  finding  his  hold  upon  his  mercenaries  relaxing,  he 
retired  to  Makedonia.  Here  he  found  means  of  recruiting  his 
forces,  and  again  invaded  Thessaly,  with  20,000  infantry  and 
3000  horse.  Meanwhile,  Onomarcbus  had  made  considerable 
progress  in  Boeotia,  and,  when  summoned  by  Lycophron  to 
his  aid,  took  the  field  against  Philip  in  Thessaly  with  a  large 
and  well-drilled  army.  The  stake  that  depended  on  the  issue 
of  the  conflict  was  no  small  one.  We  may  regard  as  a  legend- 
ary addition  of  later  times*  the  story  that  Philip  hastened 
to  battle  with  the  ensign  of  the  Delphian  god,  which  so  terri- 
fied the  Phokians  that,  struck  with  remorse  for  their  crime, 
they  allowed  themselves  to  be  defeated.  What  we  know  for 
certain  is  that  the  victory  of  Philip  was  especially  due  to  the 
Thessalian  cavalry,  which  had  rallied  in  numbers  to  his  flag. 
But  the  legend  is  true  in  so  far  as  it  implies  that  Pliilip's 
triumph  was  also  a  triumph  of  the  Amphictyons  and  the  Del- 
phic shrine  over  the  Phokians.  In  the  flight  Onomarcbus 
perished  (353-2  b.c). 

The  issue  of  the  provincial  quarrel  was  decisive  for  the 
general  war.  Philip's  victory  made  him  master  of  Thessaly. 
He  occupied  the  Gulf  of  Pagasse  and  declared  Pherse  a  free 
city.  The  Thessalian s,  whom  he  had  rescued,  gladly  espoused 
his  cause.   It  was  of  even  more  importance  that  he  could  now 


*  Justin  gives  this  version  (viii.  2,  3).     It  is  probably  true,  as  Justin  de- 
clares, that  Philip  was  formally  appointed  Strategus  in  Thessaly. 


376  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

represent  himself  as  the  champion  of  the  independence  of  the 
Delphic  oracle.  As  snch,  he  won  over  all  those  who  clung  to 
their  ancestral  religion.  At  first,  however,  his  sound  judg- 
ment bade  him  pause  in  his  career  of  victory.  He  took  good 
care  not  to  attack  the  Athenians,  who,  with  the  consent  of 
the  Phokians,  had  occupied  Thermopylae.  Philip  made  no  at- 
tempt to  force  a  way  through  the  pass.  It  was  enough  that 
he  had  attained  a  position  which  might,  indeed,  arouse  hostili- 
ty, but  which  secured  him  allies.  He  refrained  from  press- 
ing the  advantage  which  he  had  won  in  central  Greece,  and 
turned  his  attention  in  the  next  place  to  the  regions  of  Thrace. 
Olynthus,  then  in  alliance  with  Atliens,  was  the  mark  at 
which  he  aimed. 

How  much  depended  on  Olynthus  at  this  moment  may  be 
understood  from  the  declaration  of  Demosthenes  that  as  soon 
as  Philip  should  have  got  possession  of  that  city  he  might  be 
expected  in  Attica.  It  is  equally  apparent  from  Philip's 
own  remark  that  he  must  either  subdue  Olynthus,  or  give  up 
his  hold  on  Makedonia.  This,  no  doubt,  has  reference  to  the 
fa'ct  that  his  brothers,  who  still  refused  to  recognize  his  au- 
thority, found  a  refuge  in  that  city.  The  Olynthians,  as  the 
Athenians  saw,  in  resisting  Philip,  were  fighting  the  battles 
of  Athens. 

The  rivalry  of  the  two  cities  had  at  an  earlier  date  enabled 
Philip  to  fix  himself  in  Thrace.  Their  alliance  was  all  the 
more  likely  to  impel  him  to  rid  himself  of  the  Olynthians. 
The  three-and-thirty  cities  of  Chalkidike,  which  were  now  in 
alliance  with  Olynthus,  offered  little  resistance,  and  were  taken 
by  Philip  one  after  another.  Not  till  he  threatened  Olyn- 
thus itself  did  the  Athenians  send  any  help  to  the  Olynthians 
(349-8  B.C.). 

But  the  help  which  they  sent  was  not  sufficient  to  save 
their  hard-pressed  allies.  Of  the  commanders  who  led  the 
Athenian  contingent,  one,  Chares,  was  devoid  of  military 
talent;  the  other,  Charidem us,  was  notorious  for  debauchery. 
It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  men  of  this  kind  should  prove 
a  match  for  the  king,  who  was  a  thorough  soldier.  To  these 
disadvantages  must  be  added  civil  troubles  in  Olynthus.  The 
result  was  that  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  348  the  town  fell 


CAPTURE  OF  OLYNTHUS.  377 

into  the  hands  of  Phih'p.  He  availed  himself  of  the  right  of 
conquest  with  ruthless  cruelty,  for  he  had  no  intention  of  let- 
ting a  town  like  this  ever  again  recover  its  prosperity. 

This,  it  appears  to  me,  must  be  regarded  as  the  second 
great  victory  of  Philip  over  the  Greek  community.  In  the 
fall  of  Olynthus,  Athens  herself  received  a  deadly  blow.  The 
king  made  use  of  the  prisoners  who  had  come  into  his  hands 
to  send  proposals  of  peace  to  the  Athenians.  These  pro- 
posals were  not  rejected,  for  it  was  to  be  feared  that  Philip 
would  otherwise  proceed  to  make  himself  master  of  the 
Chersonese  and  the  Hellespont.  On  the  maintenance,  and 
even  on  the  autonomy,  of  the  colonies  in  that  quarter,  de- 
pended not  only  the  naval  power  of  Athens,  but  her  very  ex- 
istence, for  she  drew  her  supplies  in  great  measure  from  the 
Black  Sea.  It  was,  therefore,  a  great  advantage  for  Athens 
that  Philip  offered  to  make  peace  on  the  condition  that  each 
side  should  retain  what  it  then  held.  The  possession  of  Lem- 
nos,  Imbros,  and  Scyros  was  thereby  assured  to  Athens. 

But  with  the  conclusion  of  peace,  desirable  as  it  was  in 
itself,  another  question  of  great  importance  arose.  The  allies 
of  both  parties  were  to  be  included  in  the  peace.  The  ques- 
tion was,  who  were  these  allies?  The  Athenians  demanded 
that  all  those  who  should  within  three  months  declare  them- 
selves allies  of  Athens  should  be  recognized  as  such.  Had 
Philip  agreed  to  this,  all  his  enemies  in  Hellas  would  have 
taken  the  Athenian  side.  Another  point  closely  connected 
with  this  question  pressed  for  immediate  settlement.  The 
Athenians  wished  to  have  the  Phokians  recognized  as  their 
allies.  But  just  at  this  moment  the  Phokians  and  Philip 
were  again  at  open  war.  The  Thebans  and  Thessalians,  find- 
ing themselves  unable  to  get  the  better  of  the  Phokian  army, 
summoned  Philip  to  their  aid.  It  was  to  the  interest  of 
Philip  to  put  an  end  to  the  little  war  in  that  quarter,  which 
laid  waste  the  whole  district  and  kept  everything  in  confusion. 
He  had  on  the  earlier  occasion  hesitated  to  march  as^ainst  the 
Phokians  because  the  latter  w^ere  supported  by  Athens  and 
Sparta,  but  this  support  was  theirs  no  longer.  Sparta  had 
made  a  demonstration  in  favor  of  Phokis,  but,  deceived — so 
we  are  told — by  promises  which  Philip  made  to  the  Spartan 


378  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

envoy  at  Pella,  she  deserted  tlie  Phokian  cause.  The  Athe- 
nians found  their  hands  tied  by  the  peace.*  They  would 
have  rendered  it  insecure  if  they  had  ventured  to  oppose  the 
king. 

The  Phokian  general,  Phalaecus,  a  son  of  Onomarchus,  was 
in  sorry  plight.  Not  only  could  he  reckon  upon  no  aid  from 
abroad,  but  in  Phokis  itself  his  position  was  unsafe.  When 
therefore  Philip,  who  had  now  concluded  an  offensive  and 
defensive  alliance  with  Thebes,  appeared  in  Thessaly  with  a 
force  which  seemed  to  be  invincible,  Phalsecus  despaired  of 
holding  his  ground.  He  resolved  to  give  up  his  fortified 
camp  on  condition  of  being  allowed  to  retreat  unhindered 
(346  B.C.).  In  this  way  Philip  gained  a  complete  victory 
without  even  drawing  the  sword.  He  was  able  to  pass  Ther- 
mopylae without  opposition,  to  invade  Phokis,  to  take  posses- 
sion of  Delphi,  and  to  establish  a  new  Amphictyonic  league. 
From  this  league  the  Phokians  were  excluded,  while  the 
highest  position  in  it  was  conferred  upon  Philip  himself. 
He  presided  at  the  Pythian  games,  during  which  he  was 
visited  by  Athenian  ambassadors.  To  the  resolutions  which 
were  there  arrived  at,  the  Athenians,  much  as  they  disliked 
them,  could  make  no  opposition. 

In  order  to  understand  the  condition  of  affairs  upon  which 
we  are  now  entering,  we  must  study  the  speech  of  Demosthe- 
nes on  the  Peace.  The  Attic  orator  appears  as  the  chief 
antagonist  of  the  Makedonian  king,  whose  power,  advanced 
with  all  the  resources  of  diplomacy  and  war,  made  swift  and 
steady  progress.  Demosthenes  perceived  clearly  the  danger 
to  which  Athens  was  exposed,  but  found  no  other  means  of 
meeting  it  at  his  command  except  the  influence  of  his  oratory 
on  the  Demos  of  Athens.     He  had  now  to  contend,  not  only 

*  The  proposal  to  make  peace  with  Philip  was  accepted  by  the  popu- 
lar assembly  on  the  lOtli  day  of  Elaphcbolion  (Demosth. "  De  Falsa  Lega- 
tione,"  §  67,  p.  359),  in  the  archonship  of  Thcmistocles,  01.  108,  2= 
April  16,  856.  After  the  return  of  the  envoys,  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
king,  the  vote  followed  on  the  16th  day  of  Scirophoriou  =  the  10th  of 
July  (Demosth,  "Do  Fal.  L.,"  §  49,  p.  459).  It  ran  as  follows:  " Wv  fifi 
woiStoi  ^u)KiiQ  &  id  rat  irapaitSdai  roTf  Aft^inruoiri  rb  lephv  '6rt  fiotiB^m  o  ifjfios 
6  'ABiivaiittv  irri  roif;  SiaKuXvoyrac  ravra  yiyviffOai"  (§  49,  p.  855). 


ATHENS  AND  THEBES.  379 

with  those  at  whose  advice  the  peace  had  been  made,  but 
with  those  who,  alarmed  at  the  progress  of  Philip,  now  clam- 
ored for  war  against  him.  The  advice  of  Demosthenes  was 
to  keep  the  peace.  "  We  have  now,"  said  he,  "  given  up  Am- 
phipolis  to  Philip.  We  have  allowed  the  Cardians  to  sever 
themselves  from  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  Chersonese. 
We  have  permitted  the  Carians  to  take  possession  of  the 
islands  of  Chios,  Cos,  and  Rhodes.  We  have  acquiesced  in  all 
these  losses,  and  made  a  treaty  affecting  the  very  basis  of  our 
empire,  and  why?  Because  we  expect  greater  advantage 
from  tranquillity  than  from  a  continuation  of  the  struggle." 
In  a  word,  it  would  have  been  better  not  to  make  a  peace  in 
which  so  much  was  given  up,  but  it  would  be  in  the  highest 
degree  dangerous  at  this  moment  to  break  it,  since  it  was  to 
be  feared  that  the  Amphictyony  might  combine  to  make  war 
upon  Athens.  It  was  quite  possible  that  Athens  might  be 
involved  in  war  with  Philip,  owing  to  some  dispute  between 
the  two  powers  in  which  his  allies  were  not  concerned.  In 
such  a  case  his  allies,  at  any  rate  Thebes,  would  liardly  take 
sides  with  Philip,  for  they  might  well  be  anxious  lest  their 
own  safety  should  be  endangered  by  a  man  who  was  always 
on  the  watch  for  his  own  advantage.  To  be  sure,  it  was  also 
possible  that  Thebes  might  take  up  arms  on  account  of  her 
own  special  quarrel  with  Athens,  but  under  such  circum- 
stances Thebes  would  find  no  allies.  The  most  disastrous 
policy  for  Athens  would  be,  argued  Demosthenes,  to  give  all 
her  enemies  pretexts  for  making  war  upon  her  at  once. 
Athens  should  avoid  irritating  the  Peloponnesians  by  making 
a  closer  alliance  with  Lakeda3mon ;  the  Thebans  and  Thes- 
salians,  by  giving  refuge  to  their  exiles ;  and  Philip,  by  pre- 
venting him  from  taking  his  place  among  the  Amphictyons. 
The  caution  and  width  of  view  with  which  the  orator,  who 
was  not  only  orator,  but  statesman,  weighed  the  foreign  af- 
fairs of  his  country,  are  very  remarkable.  As  things  stood 
at  the  time,  he  was  decidedly  in  favor  of  receiving  Philip 
into  the  league  of  Amphictyonic  Hellenes.  But  while  giving 
way  on  this  point  he  claimed  for  Athens  in  other  respects  an 
independent  position. 

From  a  material  point  of  view  the  Athenians  had  every 


3S0  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

reason  to  bo  satisfied  with  the  peace.  The  fall  of  Sidon  and 
Olvnthus  were  advantageous  to  Athens,  which  now  became 
the  undisputed  metropolis  of  trade.  Commerce  rapidly  de- 
veloped, and  there  was  no  want  of  money.  To  this  period 
we  may  ascribe  the  establishment  of  an  arsenal  under  the 
care  of  the  architect  Philon,*  and  the  amendment  of  certain 
laws  which  were  disadvantageous  to  commerce.  In  matters 
of  general  importance,  on  which  maritime  power  could  be 
brought  to  hear,  Athens  presented  a  bold  front  to  Philip.  It 
was  desirable  in  this  respect  that  the  relations  of  Athens  with 
Persia  should  stand  on  a  better  footing,  and  this  actually  took 
place.  The  restoration  of  the  Great  King's  authority  in  Asia 
Minor  called  forth  a  political  reaction  there.  The  satrap  who 
a  short  time  before  had  taken  refuge  with  the  Makedonians 
was  again  admitted,  by  the  intervention  of  Memnon,  to  the 
favor  of  Artaxerxes,  and  returned  to  Asia.  In  the  life  of  Aris- 
totle t  mention  is  made  of  Ilermias,  who  was  his  most  inti- 
mate friend,  and  with  whom  he  at  that  time  resided.  Iler- 
mias was  tyrant  of  Atarneus,  a  fortified  place,  to  which  other 
towns  and  strongholds  had  attached  themselves.  Mentor,  by 
means  of  treachery,  destroyed  this  budding  independence. 
lie  invited  Ilermias  to  a  personal  meeting  of  which  he  took 
advantage  to  make  him  prisoner,  and,  by  means  of  his  signet 
ring,  got  possession  of  Atarneus  and  the  surrounding  places. 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  this  restoration  of  the  Persian 
power  in  Asia  Minor  was  of  advantage  to  Athens  in  her 
struggle  with  Makedonia.  That  power  had  to  withdraw 
within  its  former  limits.  Nor  was  this  all.  The  Athenians 
had  yet  another  weapon  in  Greece  itself  to  use  against  Philip. 
This  was  the  hatred  of  tyrants,  which  had  been  developed 
into  a  sort  of  national  religion,  and  which  burned  as  fiercely  as 
ever  in  Grecian  bosoms.  The  so-called  tyrannicides  who  had 
slain  Jason  of  Pheroe  were  everywhere  received  with  enthusi- 
asm.    In  Corinth  it  was  the  virtuous  Timoleon  who  murdered 


♦  Curt.  Wachsinuth,  "  Gcsch.  von  Athcn."  i.  697. 

t  We  arc  told  that  Ilermias  was  still  in  Atarneus  in  844.  Aristotle  be- 
came in  343  the  tutor  of  Alexander,  which  may  have  had  something  to 
do  with  political  changes. 


ATHENS  AND  PERSIA.  381 

his  own  brother  for  endeavoring  to  establish  a  despotism,  a 
deed  which  excited  the  deepest  wrath  in  the  heart  of  their 
common  mother,  but  called  forth  the  admiration  of  their  con- 
temporaries. Demosthenes  succeeded  in  arousing  this  hatred 
of  tyrants  against  Philip.  He  went  in  person  to  Argos  and 
Messene  to  impress  upon  those  states  tlie  impossibilit}'  of 
maintaining  their  alliance  wnth  the  king.  He  warned  them 
that  their  fate  would  be  like  that  of  most  of  Philip's  allies ; 
but  what  he  chiefly  relied  on  was  the  incompatibility  of  a 
monarchy  with  a  free  civic  constitution.  These  arguments 
he  urged  with  all  his  eloquence,  and  found  approval  among 
his  hearers.  It  was  in  vain  that  Philip  complained  of  the 
orator's  insinuations  and  described  them  as  insults  to  himself. 
He  made  little  impression  on  tlie  Athenians,  for  Demosthenes 
represented  to  the  Demos  that  the  king  cared  not  for  justice, 
but  for  dominion. 

Thus  it  was  that  Athens,  relying  upon  her  ancient  fame, 
Jier  vigorous  navy,  her  good  understanding  with  the  Persians, 
lastly,  on  the  deeply  rooted  national  hatred  of  tyrants,  stood 
forth  as  the  one  power  which  could  cope  with  Philip.  In- 
deed, she  appeared  to  him  still  so  dangerous  that  he  began  to 
contemplate  a  revision  of  the  terms  of  peace.  But  the  con- 
sequences might  have  gone  further  than  he  wished  had  he 
agreed  to  the  Athenian  demand  that,  not  the  possessions,  but 
the  rights,  of  each  state  should  be  taken  as  the  basis  of  peace. 
The  existing  situation  would  thereby  have  been  rendered  in- 
secure, and,  above  all,  Philip's  own  position  would  have  been 
shaken.  At  this  moment  the  Thracian  Cliersonese,  which 
Persia  had  recognized  as  part  of  the  xlthenian  empire,  and 
whose  maintenance  in  that  condition  had  been  the  chief  ob- 
ject of  the  peace,  was  threatened  by  Philip.  Cardia,  an  inde- 
pendent town,  had  been  recognized  in  the  peace  as  one  of 
Philip's  allies.  It  happened  that  some  Athenian  troops,  dis- 
satisfied with  their  pay,  committed  ravages  in  the  district  of 
Cardia  and  the  neighboring  Makedonian  territory.  Philip 
chose  to  regard  this  as  an  act  of  hostilit}^,  and  at  Athens  pub- 
lic opinion  was  in  favor  of  recalling  the  general  who  was  to 
blame  for  the  disturbance.  This  measure  was  opposed  by 
Demosthenes.     He  had  considered  it  dangerous  to  break  with 


382  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

Philip  on  the  question  of  the  Amphictjony.  But  he  was 
strongly  of  opinion  that  the  special  interests  of  Athens  as 
against  the  king  of  Makedonia,  especially  in  the  district  of  the 
Chersonese,  should  be  strenuously  protected.  He  expressed 
his  convictions  on  this  score  in  a  vigorous  speech  which  has, 
with  great  justice,  been  considered  the  best  of  all  his  orations, 
namely,  the  Third  Philippic.  In  this  speech  he  reckons  up 
the  grudges  which  Athens  had  against  Philip,  and  shows 
that  in  reality  he  was  then  at  open  war  with  Athens.  "Who 
would  venture  to  doubt,  says  he,  that  an  enemy  who  sets  up 
his  siege-train  round  a  city  is  on  the  point  of  attacking  it? 
Philip's  fine  words  were  utterly  unworthy  of  credence  :  with 
fine  words  he  had  deceived  Olynthus,  he  had  deceived  the 
Phokians,  and,  last  of  all,  Pherse,  and  the  fate  that  had  be- 
fallen those  states  would  soon  befall  Athens.  Philip,  in  fact, 
was  at  war  with  Athens,  while  Athens  was  not  at  war  with 
Philip.  Such  a  state  of  things  must,  at  all  costs,  be  brought 
to  an  end. 

Against  the  positive  proposals  of  Demosthenes  many  ob- 
jections might  be  made.  The  value  of  his  speeches  lies  in 
his  general  observations,  which  rest  upon  a  wide  survey  of 
affairs,  and  are  enforced,  one  may  fairly  say,  with  irresistible 
logic.  For  it  is  not  in  high-sounding  words,  but  in  incontro- 
vertible reasoning,  which,  however  close,  is  yet  intelligible  to 
the  masses,  that  the  excellence  of  these  orations  consists. 

Philip  and  Athens  were  now  engaged  for  the  second  time 
in  open  conflict.  Philip's  fii'st  step  was  an  attack  upon  the 
fortified  town  of  Perinthus.  This  town,  built  in  terraces 
along  the  coast,  contained  an  industrious  and  courageous 
population.  Philip  had  already  succeeded  in  carrying  the 
outer  walls,  and  the  fall  of  the  inner  town  was  expected, 
when  some  Athenian  mercenaries  made  their  appearance.  It 
was  Persian  gold  which  paid  these  troops,  for  the  Persians 
were  as  anxious  as  the  Athenians  not  to  let  the  Makedonian 
monarchy  gain  control  over  the  straits,  whoso  possession  was 
of  such  world-wide  importance.  In  those  regions,  where  dif- 
ferent nationalities  have,  in  all  periods  of  the  world's  history, 
come  into  collision,  since  no  state  will  allow  another  to  possess 
them,  a  very  unexpected,  but  at  the  same  time  natural,  union 


BYZANTIUM.  383 

of  Greek  and  Persian  interests  took  place.  The  result  was 
that  Philip  had  to  raise  the  siege  of  Perinthus  (340-39  e.g.). 

The  scene  of  action  now  shifted  to  Byzantium.  Here  the 
Athenians  were  able  to  bring  their  whole  power  to  bear 
against  the  king.  Chares  drove  the  Makedonian  fleet  out  of 
the  Golden  Horn.  Phokion,  who  owed  his  refuge  in  Bjzan- 
tium  to  the  fame  of  his  virtue,  defended  the  fortifications  on 
the  land  side.  Here,  too,  Philip  had  to  retreat.  But  his 
combinations  had  never  been  on  a  wider  or  more  magnificent 
scale.  By  an  expedition  against  the  Scythians  he  hoped  to 
get  possession  of  the  mouths  of  the  Danube.  He  would  then 
have  become  master  of  the  Black  Sea,  after  which  the  Greek 
colonies  in  that  quarter  would  have  been  unable  long  to 
maintain  their  independence.  But  in  these  lands  there  still 
existed  free  peoples,  whose  movements  were  not  to  be  fore- 
seen or  calculated,  and  the  expedition  against  the  Scythians 
failed  to  attain  its  aim.  It  was  not  altogether  unsuccessful, 
for  the  king  returned  richly  laden  with  booty,  but  on  his  way 
back  he  was  attacked  by  the  Triballi,  who  inflicted  on  him 
such  serious  loss  that  he  had  to  relinquish  the  idea  of  making 
further  conquests  in  the  Thracian  Chei-sonese.  The  Atheni- 
ans, who  were  hardly  aware  that  they  had  allies  in  the  Tri- 
balli, maintained,  in  conjunction  with  the  Persians,  their 
maritime  supremacy.  Once  more  the  Athenian  navy  proved 
itself  a  match  for  the  Makedonian  king,  and  the  general 
position  of  affairs  would  have  allowed  this  balance  of  power 
to  exist  for  a  time  if  the  old  feud  about  the  shrine  of  Delphi 
had  not  been  revived. 

The  cause  of  this  was,  politically  speaking,  insignificant. 
It  was  a  quarrel  on  a  point  of  honor,  such  as  when  Pericles 
and  Sparta  were  rivals  for  the  Promanteia.*  This  time  the 
rivalry  was  between  Thebes  and  Athens.  The  Athenians 
had  restored  a  votive  offering  in  Delphi,  the  inscription  on 
which  commemorated  the  victories  they  had  won  alike  over 
the  Persians  and  the  Thebans.  The  Thebans  felt  this  insult 
the  more  keenly  because  their  relations  had,  since  that  time, 
undergone  a  complete  transformation.     At  the  next  meeting 

*  That  is,  the  right  of  precedence  in  consulting  the  oracle. 


384  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

of  the  Amphictyonic  Council,  at  which  envoys  from  Athens 
again  took  part,  the  Hieromneinon  of  Amphissa,  the  chief 
town  of  the  Ozolian  Locrians,  brought  the  matter  forward.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  the  Locrians  were  especial  enemies 
of  the  Phokians,  and  the  most  zealous  supporters  of  the  Del- 
phian god.  In  the  course  of  his  speech  the  Hieromneinon 
gave  utterance  to  sentiments  offensive  to  the  Athenians, 
whom  he  could  not  forgive  for  their  alliance  with  the  Phoki- 
ans. He  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  their  presence  could  not 
be  tolerated  in  the  holy  place.  One  of  the  envoys  of  Athens 
was  the  orator  ^schines,  who  was  not  himself  Hieromnemon, 
but  acted  as  his  deputy.  Far  from  seeking  to  excuse  the 
Athenians,  he  turned  the  tables  on  the  people  of  Amphissa 
by  charging  them  with  seizing  the  property  of  the  Delphian 
god,  namely,  the  harbor  of  Kirrha,  which  was  visible  from 
the  place  of  meeting.  After  the  victories  of  Philip,  public 
opinion  had  turned  strongly  in  favor  of  protecting  the  pos- 
sessions of  the  temple,  ^schines  succeeded  in  persuading 
the  Amphictyons  to  undertake  the  expulsion  of  the  Locrians 
from  their  new  possession.  They  were  naturally  resisted, 
and  the  resistance  they  met  with  was  stigmatized  as  sacrilege. 
It  was  resolved  to  hold  a  special  sitting  of  the  Amphictyonic 
Council,  in  order  to  deal  with  the  question. 

Demosthenes  was  alarmed  when  he  heard  of  this  challenge. 
To  wage  war  on  behalf  of  the  Amphictyons  and  the  shrine  of 
Delphi  was  totally  at  variance  with  the  established  policy  of 
Athens,  which  had  hitherto  countenanced  encroachments  on 
the  shrine.  Was  Athens  now  to  take  part  in  a  war  in  favor 
of  the  Amphictyony — that  is,  in  favor  of  King  Philip,  who 
was  at  the  head  of  the  league?  Such  was  the  counsel  of 
^schines,  in  whose  eyes  the  piety  and  justice  of  the  war 
overbalanced  other  considerations.  He  hoped  to  make  use 
of  this  opportunity  in  order,  with  the  consent  of  Philip,  to 
wrest  Oropus,  long  a  subject  of  dispute,  from  the  Thebans. 
Demosthenes  set  himself  against  this  plan  with  all  the  force 
of  his  political  convictions.  Hero  we  may  remark  the  rad- 
ical distinction  between  the  two  oratore.  The  one  was  at- 
tracted by  a  momentary  advantage,  the  other  kept  the  gen- 
eral state  of  affairs  consistently  iu  view.     At  the  same  time 


PHILIP  APPOINTED  STRATEGUS.  385 

we  are  stnick  by  the  incapacity  of  a  democratic  assembly  for 
the  conduct  of  affairs  when  great  political  interests  are  con- 
cerned. Such  an  assembly  is  a  slave  to  the  impulse  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  to  the  impressions  of  the  tribune.  Further  than 
this,  the  personal  rivalry  of  the  two  orators  made  itself  felt 
in  decisions  of  the  greatest  moment.  At  first  JEschines  suc- 
ceeded in  passing  a  resolution  to  declare  war  against  Am- 
phissa.  Thereupon  Demosthenes  passed  another  resolution 
directly  at  variance  with  the  first,  against  taking  sides  with 
the  Amphictyons,  or  even  sending  envoys  to  the  contem- 
plated meeting.  Here  was  a  change  of  front  indeed!  In 
the  first  vote  were  involved  peace  and  friendship  with  Phil- 
ip ;  the  second  vote  meant  nothing  short  of  open  hostilities 
against  him.  The  people  of  Amphissa,  at  first  rejected,  were 
immediately  afterwards  taken  into  favor.  Thus  encouraged, 
they  showed  a  bolder  front  to  the  Amphictyons. 

Here  we  are  compelled  to  ask  whether  the  great  master  of 
eloquence  did  not  lay  himself  open  to  the  charge  of  incon- 
sistency. How  was  it  that  he  counselled  resistance  to  the 
Amphictyons  and  therefore  at  the  same  time  to  King  Philip, 
a  proceeding  which  he  liad  always  denounced  as  in  the  high- 
est degree  dangerous  ?  He  defended  this  policy  on  the  ground 
that  Athens  was  already  at  open  war  with  Pliilip,  and  that 
she  could  not  possibly  be  allied,  in  a  question  of  internal  pol- 
itics, with  a  prince  against  whom  she  was  fighting  elsewhere. 
For  Philip,  however,  no  step  could  have  been  more  advan- 
tageous. Too  weak  at  sea  to  resist  Athens  on  that  element, 
he  was  now  provided  witli  occasion  and  pretext  for  bringing 
his  overpowering  land  force  into  the  field  against  her.  At 
the  invitation  of  the  Thessalians,  he  led  his  army  into  Thes- 
saly.  The  Amphictyons  appointed  him  Strategus,  with  inde- 
pendent and  irresponsible  authority — for  that  is  the  meaning 
of  the  word  ^^  autocrator^'^  which  was  added  to  the  title  of 
Strategus. 

Thus  provided  with  legal  authority,  he  appeared,  in  the 
winter  of  339-8,  in  Hellas.  Neither  the  Locrians,  though  aid- 
ed by  an  Athenian  contingent,  nor  the  people  of  Amphis- 
sa, were  able  to  resist  him.  It  was  probably  owing  to  a  false 
report,  spread  by  himself,  that  he  was  allowed  a  free  passage 

25 


386  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

through  Thermopylae.  He  then  occupied  Elateia,  which  se- 
cured his  retreat  to  Makedonia.  These  advances  produced 
yet  another  revohition  in  Panhellenic  affairs.  Thebes,  after 
having  promoted  the  Amphictyonic  war  against  Phokis,  and 
after  assisting  Philip  in  his  other  movements,  now  deserted 
his  side,  l^o  Theban  envoys  appeared  at  an  extraordinary 
assembly  of  the  Amphictyons,  which  met  at  Pylse.  We  may 
infer  that  the  Thebans  were  anxious  lest  Philip,  after  over- 
powering Athens,  should  turn  his  arms  against  themselves; 
and  undoubtedly  their  anxiety  was  well  founded.  Thebes 
had,  on  a  previous  occasion,  actively  contributed  to  the  over- 
throw of  the  Lakedaemonian  power  and  the  rule  of  the  Thirty 
Tyrants  in  Attica.  This  had  revived  the  power  of  Athens, 
which  in  return  aided  Thebes  in  the  recovery  of  its  indepen- 
dence. It  was  not  likely  that  the  Thebans  would  stand  by 
and  see  Athens  crushed  by  Philip.  The  offence  which  they 
had  taken  at  the  votive  shield  was  soon  forgotten,  but,  unfor- 
tunately, there  was  another  very  intelligible  ground  of  jeal- 
ousy between  the  two  cities.  This  was  the  seaport  of  Oro- 
pus,  then  in  the  hands  of  the  Thebans,  a  port  much  coveted 
by  Athens  on  account  of  its  convenience  for  the  trade  with 
Euboea.  ^schines  had  hoped  that  Athens,  by  the  aid  of 
Philip,  would  be  able  to  take  permanent  possession  of  this 
town.  Hero  he  was  opposed  by  Demosthenes.  If  King 
Philip  was  ever  again  to  be  successfully  resisted,  it  could  only 
be  done  by  the  restoration  of  a  good  understanding  between 
Athens  and  Thebes.  Thus,  and  thus  only,  could  a  power  be 
formed  capable  of  taking  up  the  cudgels  with  Philip.  The 
idea  of  this  alliance  was  in  the  mind  of  Demosthenes  day  and 
night. 

That  the  alliance  came  about  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  great- 
est service  which  Demosthenes  rendered  at  this  crisis.  Ho 
succeeded  in  persuading  the  Athenians — and  it  can  have  been 
no  easy  matter  to  persuade  them — to  give  up  the  claim  upon 
Oropus,  which  they  had  hitherto  strenuously  maintained. 
The  victory  which  Demosthenes  won  in  Athens  was  a  victory 
of  national  interests  over  a  separatist  policy.  Immediately 
afterwards  he  went  in  person  to  Thebes.  By  recognizing  the 
headship  of  Thebes  in  Boeotia,  in  spite  of  all  Philip's  com- 


ALLIANCE  OF  ATHENS  AND  THEBES.  387 

mands  and  threats,  he  succeeded  in  consummating  the  alli- 
ance of  the  two  cities,  on  the  success  of  which  the  very  exist- 
ence of  the  Greek  community  depended."^  All  Greece  was 
thereupon  traversed  by  embassies  from  either  party.  Philip 
persuaded  the  Messenians,  the  Arcadians,  and  the  people  of 
Elis  to  take  no  part  in  the  war.  From  the  Spartans  he  had 
nothing  to  fear,  for  at  this  moment  they  were  occupied  with 
an  expedition  to  Italy,  in  order  to  support  Tarentum  against 
the  Lucanians.  But  there  were  a  few  states  who  cluns:  fast 
to  the  idea  of  a  Panhellenic  bond.  Athens  and  Thebes  found 
allies  in  the  Euboeans  and  the  Achseans,  in  tlie  inhabitants 
of  Corinth  and  Megara,  as  well  as  in  the  distant  Leucadians 
and  Korkyraeans. 

In  Athens,  as  well  as  in  Boeotia,  there  were  many  who 
would  have  preferred  peace,  but  the  orator  had  united  the 
two  capitals  with  too  strong  a  chain.  When  the  Athenians 
appeared  before  Thebes  they  were  received,  contrary  to  the 
liabit  of  previous  centuries,  with  a  hearty  \velcome.  The 
combined  armies  took  the  field  together.  The  first  skirmishes 
that  took  place  turned  out  well  for  the  allied  cities,  and  a 
golden  crown  was  voted  in  Athens  to  Demosthenes.  But 
popular  enthusiasm  was  premature  in  thinking  that  success 
was  attained.  In  the  very  first  movements  of  the  war  the 
superior  generalship  of  Philip  was  displayed.  He  drove  the 
Thebans  from  their  position  of  vantage  by  attacking  Boeotia 
in  their  rear.  The  Thebans,  impelled  by  their  territorial 
sympathies,  despatched  a  portion  of  their  forces  in  that  direc- 
tion, and  Philip  was  thus  enabled  to  occupy  the  plain  of  Chse- 
roneia,  a  position  very  favorable  for  deploying  his  cavalry. 

It  was  on  this  field  that  the  two  hosts  met  for  the  decisive 
conflict.  Philip  commanded  an  army  fully  equipped  and 
accustomed  to  combined  action,  and  he  commanded  it  with 
unequalled  skill.  He  had  turned  to  his  own  use  the  expe- 
riences of  Theban  and  Athenian  commanders  during  several 

*  Theopompus  ("  Demosthenes,"  chap.  18)  remarks  on  the  speech  of 
Demosthenes  at  Thebes,  "  t)  tov  prjTopog  dvvafiig  eKpnril^ovaa  rbv  Bvfiov  avrujv 
Kai  SiKaiovaa  rriv  ^iKorifiiav,  tTrttTKOTTjae  rolg  dWoig  liiramv,  wore  Kal  ^o/3ov  kuI 
XoyicTfibv  Kai  %«/"»'  tK(3a\eXv  avrovg,  ivOovffiaiVTag  VTrb  tov  \6yov  rrpbg  to  koXov." 


388  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

decades.  Neithei*  Thebes  nor  Athens  had  any  commander 
of  note  to  set  against  him.  Phokion,  the  only  man  in  Ath- 
ens wlio  understood  the  art  of  war,  kept  himself  purposely 
out  of  the  way.  The  organization  of  the  allied  forces  was 
that  which  had  become  traditional.  The  different  contin- 
gents were  arranged  according  to  the  localities  which  sup- 
plied thera,  just  as  had  been  the  case  in  the  Persian  wars. 
The  army  was  what  it  always  had  been,  a  citizen  militia  from 
the  different  towns  and  states.  Their  individual  discipline 
was  excellent,  but  collectively  they  had  no  organization. 
The  Athenians  had  granted  a  certain  pre-eminence  to  the 
Theban  Theagenes,  but  they  had  not  conferred  upon  him  the 
powers  of  a  general.  On  this  decisive  day  the  Greek  com- 
munity had  no  commander-in-chief. 

The  Thebans,  whose  forces  were  most  numerous,  had  to 
withstand  the  severest  attack.  They  were,  at  this  moment, 
the  most  hated  and  most  dangerous  enemies  of  Philip :  most 
hated  because  they  had  deserted  his  league;  most  dangerous 
because  in  their  contingent  were  concentrated  the  remains  of 
the  old  Theban  army,  founded  by  Epameinondas,  and  there- 
fore the  most  famous  military  force  of  Greece.  Against 
them  Philip  sent  the  bulk  of  his  forces,  under  the  command 
of  his  son  Alexander.  He  himself,  with  a  body  of  his  choicest 
and  most  experienced  troops,  faced  the  Athenians.  While 
restricting  himself  to  holding  the  Athenians  in  check,  he 
allowed  the  main  battle  to  take  place  between  the  bulk  of  his 
forces  and  the  Thebans.  The  latter  defended  themselves 
"with  the  greatest  bravery.  Their  leader,  Theagenes,  was  not 
unworthy  of  his  predecessors.  The  nucleus  of  the  Theban 
resistance  was  the  Sacred  Band,  whoso  members  were  bound 
by  mutual  oaths  never  to  desert  each  other.  This  force,  with- 
out doubt  the  best  that  was  in  the  field,  was  now  overpow- 
ered by  the  superiority  of  Makedonian  generalship.  The  vic- 
tory has  been  ascribed  to  the  youthful  Alexander,  but  it  must 
really  have  been  due  to  the  experienced  captains  by  whom  bo 
was  assisted  in  the  command. 

The  Theban  line  was  eventually  broken  —  Alexander  is 
said  to  have  ridden  it  down  with  liis  cavalry — and  Philip 
now  advanced  against  the  Athenians  with  the  force  which 


BATTLE  OF  CH^RONEIA.  389 

he  had  hitherto  held  in  reserve.  At  the  first  onset  they  are 
said  to  have  fancied  that  they  were  about  to  chase  the  king 
from  the  field.  But  Philip  remarked :  "  The  Athenians  know 
not  how  to  win  a  victory" — a  remark  which  must  have  meant 
that  otherwise  they  would  not  have  pursued  him  so  far  on  his 
pretended  retreat.  Now  that  the  battle  had  gone  against  the 
Thebans,  and  the  troops  which  had  been  victorious  in  that 
quarter  pressed  forward  against  the  allies  who  were  drawn 
up  with  the  Athenians  and  were  under  Athenian  command, 
Philip  turned  his  forces  against  the  Athenians  themselves. 
The  latter,  seeing  that  all  was  over,  made  no  further  resist- 
ance, and  suffered  a  complete  defeat.*  Of  native  Athenians 
more  than  one  thousand  were  slain,  two  thousand  were  taken 
prisoners,  and  the  rest  fled  in  complete  panic.  Among  the 
latter  was  Demosthenes.  His  place  was  not  on  the  field  of 
battle,  but  in  the  tribune.  Philip  is  said  to  have  ironically 
repeated  the  beginning  of  a  vote  against  himself,  which  hap- 
pened to  run  in  the  iambic  metre,  and  in  which  "Demosthenes 
the  son  of  Demosthenes  of  the  Paeonian  deme  "  is  mentioned 
as  the  proposer.  The  orator  was  defeated  by  the  Strategus, 
and  democratic  enthusiasm  by  military  experience.  The 
speaker  who  roused  that  enthusiasm  gave  way  to  the  king 
who  knew  the  use  of  military  science.  The  power  of  the 
tribune  was  thrust  into  the  background  by  a  political  force 
which  recognized  no  authority  but  that  of  arms. 

The  Athenians  were  afraid  that  Philip  would  now  press 
forward  against  their  city.  But  this  could  hardly  have  been 
his  intention,  especially  after  the  failure  of  the  sieges  which 
he  had  lately  attempted.  It  was  on  pitched  battles  that  his 
superiority  depended.  Moreover,  he  was  satisfied  with  the 
commanding  position  which  his  victory  had  obtained  for  him. 
One  of  its  first  results,  and  the  most  important  of  all,  was  that 

*  Of  the  battle  we  have  a  fairly  trustworthy  account  in  Diodorus,  xvi, 
86.  It  took  place  in  the  archonship  of  Chaerondas  (Diodorus,  xvi.  84), 
01.  110,  3,  on  the  seventh  day  of  Metageitnion  (Plutarch,  "Camillus," 
chap,  xix.),  which,  according  to  the  different  assumptions  on  which  the 
reckoning  is  based,  corresponds  either  to  August  1  or  September  2  of  the 
Julian  calendar,  B.C.  338.  Comp.  Schafer,  "  Demosth.  und  seine  Zeit,"  ii. 
p.  528,  n.  5. 


390  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

the  party  favorable  to  liim  in  Athens  now  again  took  the  lead. 
He  was  wise  enough  to  conciliate  resentment  by  proofs  of 
favor,  and  the  terms  of  peace  which  he  offered  were  such  as 
Athens  conld  have  felt  no  inducement  to  reject.  As  to  the 
details  we  are  ill  informed.  The  king  gave  Oropus  back  to 
Athens,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  had  to  cede  the 
Thracian  Chersonese  with  some  of  her  subject  islands,  as  well 
as  the  command  of  the  sea. 

In  Greece  itself  no  one  ventured  to  make  further  resistance 
to  the  king.  In  Euboea,  in  the  first  place,  his  friends  took 
the  lead  in  every  city.  Chalkis  was  chastised  for  its  alliance 
with  Athens.  Thebes  was  secured  by  a  Makedonian  garrison 
in  the  Cadmeia.  The  autonomy  of  the  Boeotian  cities  was 
restored,  not,  however,  in  the  Athenian  interest,  but  in  that 
of  the  king.  His  first  care  was  thenceforward  not  only  to 
maintain  this  condition  of  things,  but  to  anticipate  every  new 
movement  which  might  disturb  it. 

But  the  course  of  affairs  was  not  such  as  to  allow  Philip  to 
set  himself  up  as  absolute  master  of  Greece.  It  rather  tended 
to  the  establishment,  in  the  midst  of  the  independent  elements 
of  the  Greek  world,  of  a  power  capable  of  undertaking  the 
general  direction,  and  setting  a  limit  to  internal  disturbances. 
With  this  end  in  view,  Philip  undertook  to  found  a  sort  of 
league  for  the  preservation  of  peace.  In  such  a  league  ho 
naturally  played  the  chief  part.  After  a  short  lapse  of  time 
he  summoned  a  meeting  of  deputies  from  the  Greek  towns 
and  states  to  meet  him  in  Corinth.  The  assembly  was  numer- 
ously attended,  but  all  we  know  for  certain  about  its  proceed- 
ings is  that  the  existing  state  of  affairs  was  sanctioned.  A 
special  resolution  was  passed  to  the  effect  that  no  city  should 
attempt  to  restore  the  exiles  of  another.  Any  state  wliich  at- 
tacked another  was  to  be  put  down,  at  the  invitation  of  Philij), 
by  all  the  rest.  This  was  tantamount  to  the  appointment  of 
Philip  as  commander,  with  absolute  powers,  of  the  League  of 
the  Public  Peace. 

The  king  had  given  the  Athenians  their  choice  as  to  wliether 
they  would  attend  this  assembly  or  not.  In  consequence  of 
the  turn  which  affairs  had  taken — for,  as  one  of  their  orators 
put  it,  the  victory  of  Chteroneia  had  blinded  every  one — the 


RESULTS  OF  THE  BATILE  OF  CILERONEIA.  39I 

proposal  to  attend  the  meeting  was  accepted.  Tlie  Athenians 
were  therefore  represented  at  Corinth :  not  so  the  Spartans, 
who,  in  spite  of  Philip's  influence  in  the  Peloponnesus,  could 
not  bear  to  submit  to  any  kind  of  domination.  The  contin- 
gents to  be  supplied  by  all  other  states  were  fixed,  and  these 
contingents  were  to  be  supplied  in  case  of  any  attack  upon  the 
king,  and  even  in  case  of  any  aggressive  war  which  he  might 
resolve  to  undertake. 

The  forces  of  Hellas  were  thus  put  at  the  king's  service, 
although  it  was  impossible  to  say  positively  to  what  use  he 
intended  to  put  them.  It  was  generally  assumed  that  he  in- 
tended to  turn  his  arms  against  Persia.  That,  indeed,  was  the 
most  natural  course  to  take.  Athens  had  been  in  alliance 
with  Persia,  and  a  number  of  Athenians,  who  could  not  bear 
to  submit  to  Philip,  had  taken  refuge  in  Asia  Minor,  where 
Mentor,  at  the  head  of  his  Greek  mercenaries,  still  maintained 
the  authority  of  the  Great  King.  Without  a  moment's  delay 
the  king  of  Makedonia  sent  a  division  of  his  army,  under  the 
command  of  Attains  and  Parmenio,  to  Asia  Minor,  in  order 
to  arouse  the  Greeks  in  that  quarter  to  strike  a  blow  for  free- 
dom in  the  old  Hellenic  sense  of  the  word.  Hostilities  with 
Mentor  at  once  began.  Through  all  this  we  can  clearly  trace 
the  chain  of  cause  and  effect.  The  victories  over  Greece,  the 
acquisition  of  naval  supremacy,  the  conquest  of  the  Thracian 
Chersonese,  the  expedition  against  the  northern  barbarians, 
the  establishment  of  relations  with  the  semi -Hellenic  races 
of  Epeirus,  the  military  movements  now  undertaken  in  Asia 
Minor — all  these  follow  each  other  in  their  natural  order,  and 
bring  to  light  a  single  military  and  political  system,  foretelling 
a  new  future  for  the  Oriental  world. 

Of  the  elements  which  constituted  this  system,  far  the  most 
important  was  the  connection  between  the  Makedonian  mon- 
archy and  the  hegemony  of  Greece.  Philip  had  no  intention 
whatever  of  reducing  the  Greeks  to  the  position  of  subjects. 
On  the  contrary,  he  needed  their  voluntary  assistance,  their 
adventurous  spirit,  and  their  inventive  power.  While  with- 
holding from  the  Greeks  the  supreme  direction  of  affairs  in 
the  most  important  political  crises,  he  absorbed  the  Greek  sys- 
tem into  the  collective  unity  of  his  power.     On  the  one  side, 


THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

we  Lave  an  army  fitted  for  the  greatest  undertakings,  an  army 
without  a  rival  in  its  day,  entirely  dependent  on  the  will  of 
the  Makedonian  king.  On  the  other  side,  we  have  a  civiliza- 
tion thoroughly  national  in  character,  but  capable  of  exercis- 
ing a  universal  influence.  The  combination  of  these  two  ele- 
ments is  the  distinctive  feature  of  Philip's  political  work;  it 
was,  so  to  speak,  his  mission.  Victories  gained  by  a  people 
like  the  Makedonians,  however  decisive,  could  not  by  them- 
selves have  had  a  very  deep  influence  upon  universal  history. 
Their  world-wide  importance  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  Make- 
donians united  themselves  with  the  Greeks,  whose  national 
culture,  developed  by  the  free  action  of  internal  forces,  must 
ever  be  one  of  the  principal  elements  in  that  civilization  which 
forms  the  goal  of  humanity.  It  was  through  this  alliance, 
intimate  enough,  if  on  one  side  involuntary,  that  the  Make- 
donian monarchy  produced  so  incalculable  an  effect  upon  the 
history  of  later  ages.  The  Greeks,  had  they  remained  alone, 
would  never  have  succeeded  in  winning  for  the  intellectual 
life  which  they  had  created  a  sure  footing  in  the  world  at 
large.  Indeed,  the  connection  with  Persia,  so  lately  renewed, 
might  well  have  had  the  very  opposite  effect.  But  what 
could  not  have  otherwise  been  secured  was  attained  by  their 
alliance  with  Makedonia.  It  was  inevitable  that  Demosthenes 
should  be  the  enemy  of  Philip.  The  philosopher,  to  whose 
care  Philip  committed  his  son  Alexander,  was,  on  the  other 
hand,  Alexander's  best  ally.  That  alliance  embraced  the  po- 
litical and  the  intellectual  world,  which  thenceforward  pro- 
ceeded side  by  side  in  separate,  but  yet  as  it  were  concentric, 
orbits. 

We  cannot  agree  with  the  oft-repeated  assertion  that  Philip 
at  this  moment  stood  at  the  climax  of  his  fortune,  and  that, 
with  Europe  at  his  feet,  he  flattered  himself  with  the  prospect 
of  speedily  overthrowing  Asia.  A  statesman  and  commander 
of  his  experience  was  not  likely  to  shut  his  eyes  to  the  diffi- 
culties which  stood  in  his  way  on  cither  side.  But  he  was 
determined  to  carry  through  the  enterprise  to  which  the  ten- 
dency of  events  had  led  him,  and  which  ho  was  now  preparing 
to  execute.  Deeds  of  wdrld-wide  significance  and  startling 
grandeur  were  universally  expected  of  him,  when  suddenly 


ACCESSION  OF  ALEXANDER.  393 

the  news  spread  that,  at  a  festival  arranged  by  him  at  JEgge, 
he  had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin. 

Polygamous  relations  were  the  cause  of  this  catastrophe. 
Philip  liad  divorced  his  wife  Olympias,  who  was  descended 
from  the  Epeirot  family  of  the  ^akidoe,  and  had  wedded  the 
niece  of  Attains,  who  belonged  to  one  of  the  noblest  families 
in  Makedonia.  This  event  caused  a  bitter  feud  between  the 
friends  of  the  two  wives,  and  betw^een  Alexander,  the  son  of 
Olympias,  and  the  uncle  of  the  second  wife.  Philip  hoped 
to  reconcile  the  parties  by  a  marriage  between  his  daughter 
Cleopatra  and  the  brother  of  Olympias.  It  was  at  the  festival 
given  on  this  occasion  that  he  was  murdered,  while  walking 
between  his  son  Alexander  and  his  son-in-law  of  the  same 
name  (autumn  of  336  b.c.).*  One  of  his  chief  and  most 
trusted  servants,  Pausanias,  had  done  tho  deed.  We  need  pay 
no  attention  to  the  motives,  alike  disgusting  and  insufficient, 
which  have  been  attributed  to  him.  The  explanation  points 
to  legendary  additions,  which  frequently  mingle  the  vulgar 
and  the  tragic. 

In  Athens  the  news  was  received  with  manifestations  of 
delight.  Demosthenes  appeared  in  the  popular  assembly  clad 
in  a  festive  robe.  He  rejoiced  to  see  his  country  rid  of  the 
tyrant  who  had  loaded  her  with  chains.  In  the  mind  of  the 
orator,  everything  was  to  give  way  to  the  autonomy  of  the 
Greek  republics,  which  was  clearly  less  in  danger  from  the 
Persians  than  from  the  Makedonians.  But,  in  leaning  to  the 
former,  he  espoused  the  weaker  side.  The  Makedonian  mon- 
archy passed  from  the  strong  hand  which  had  founded  it 
to  one  stronger  still.  The  -^akid  Alexander  ascended  the 
Makedonian  throne. 

2.  Alexander  the  Great, 

It  was  a  significant  remark  with  which  Alexander  took  pos- 
session of  the  government.     He  said  that  the  king  his  lord 

*  In  a  close  investigation  of  this  affair,  a  letter  of  Alexander  (Arrian, 
i.  25,  and  ii.  14),  in  which  he  attributes  his  father's  death  to  the  Persians, 
would  appear  worthy  of  consideration,  were  not  the  authenticity  of  the 
letter  doubtful.  Aristotle  ("  Polit."  v.  8  [10])  gives  a  very  short  sketch 
of  the  ordinary  story. 


394  THE  JIAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

had  perished,  but  he  would  be  as  zealous  in  the  conduct  of 
affairs  as  ever  his  father  had  been.  Therewith  he  entered 
upon  the  career  which  his  father  had  marked  out  for  hira. 
He  had  to  hold  the  semi-barbaric  tribes  in  check,  to  maintain 
his  authority  in  Greece,  and  to  carry  on  war  with  Persia.  A 
short  visit  to  Greece,  not  without  some  parade  of  military 
force,  sufficed  to  induce  the  Diet  of  the  Greek  States,  which 
he  summoned  to  meet  in  Corinth,  to  hand  over  to  him  the 
supreme  command  which  they  had  formerly  conferred  upon 
his  father.  On  this  occasion  the  command  was  conferred 
with  the  distinct  object  of  carrying  on  war  against  Persia. 
It  was  the  preparations  for  this  war  which  gave  rise  to  the 
first  danger  that  assailed  the  young  king. 

Attains,  who  denied  the  Makedonian  origin  of  the  king 
and  regarded  him  in  the  light  of  an  enemy,  succeeded  in  se- 
ducing the  troops  over  whom  Philip  had  placed  him  in  com- 
mand. He  established  an  understanding  with  the  Greeks, 
and,  instead  of  waging  war  with  Persia,  seemed  inclined  to 
make  common  cause  with  them  against  Alexander.  But  At- 
tains was  murdered :  the  obedience  of  the  Makedonian  troops 
was  secured  by  Parmenio,  and  the  war  with  Persia  went  on. 
At  first  the  Makedonians  met  with  no  great  success.  They 
were  compelled  to  raise  a  siege  which  they  had  undertaken, 
and  in  Troas  were  beaten  out  of  the  field — events  which 
caused  intense  excitement  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  Grecian  world. 

Philip  and  Alexander  have  been  strikingly  compared  with 
the  kings  of  Prussia,  Frederick  William  the  First  and  Fred- 
erick the  Second.  It  is  true  that  each  father  bequeathed  to 
his  son  a  powerful  army  ready  in  every  respect  to  take  the 
field.  Almost  the  first  efforts  of  the  two  sons — we  are  dis- 
tinctly told  this  of  Alexander  as  well  as  of  Frederick — were 
directed  to  securing  the  obedience  of  the  troops.  But  the 
difference  is,  that  Frederick  the  Second  commenced  a  policy 
which  was  entirely  his  own,  and  began  a  war  wliich  his  father 
would  never  have  undertaken.  Alexander,  on  the  contrary, 
took  up  and  continued  the  political  and  military  schemes 
which  his  father  had  begun. 

We  first  make  acquaintance  with  him  and  his  army  during 


CAMPAIGN  IN  THRACE.  395 

his  campaign  against  the  tribes  on  the  northern  frontier  of 
Makedonia.  This  campaign  he  carried  out  with  energy  eqnal 
to  that  of  Philip,  and  with  more  success  (spring  of  335  u.c). 
The  distinctive  feature  of  the  war  was  that  the  Makedonian 
phalanx,  the  organization  and  equipment  of  which  were 
adapted  from  Grecian  models,  everywhere  won  and  main- 
tained the  upper  hand.  At  the  passage  of  the  Hsemus,  the 
most  difficult  points  were  fortified  by  the  Thracians  with  a 
bulwark  of  wagons.  These  war-carriages  were  rolled  down 
from  the  steepest  heights  in  the  hope  of  throwing  the  mili- 
tary array  of  the  Makedoniaus  into  confusion.  Arrian,  who 
begins  his  history  of  Alexander's  campaigns  with  this  feat  of 
arms,  describes  the  skilful  inventions  by  which  this  plan  was 
met  and  frustrated.*  When  the  real  battle  began,  the  Thra- 
cians, who,  according  to  the  traditions  of  barbaric  warfare,  had 
taken  the  field  without  weapons  of  defence,  fled  from  their 
fortified  positions.  In  their  flight  they  were  joined  by  the 
Triballi,  who  were  in  alliance  with  the  Thracians,  and  had  re- 
sisted all  the  efforts  of  King  Philip  to  pacify  them.  Their 
king  Syrmus  retreated  to  Peuke,  an  island  in  the  Danube ; 
but  with  the  mass  of  the  nation  the  Makedonians  again  came 
into  collision.  Protected  by  a  thick  forest,  the  Triballi  awaited 
their  attack.  Alexander  managed  to  entice  them  from  their 
shelter  by  means  of  an  attack  on  the  part  of  the  archers  and 
spearmen.  The  event  was  still  doubtful,  when  the  phalanx, 
drawn  up  in  greater  depth  than  usual,  marched  against  them, 
while  at  the  same  time  the  Makedonian  cavalry  made  an 
onslaught.  Thus  threatened,  the  Triballi  retreated  from  the 
field. 

In  this  episode  we  come  upon  regions,  peoples,  and  condi- 
tions, among  which  the  history  of  the  world  has  more  than 
once,  in  later  times,  been  decided.  Even  at  this  epoch  By- 
zantium was  rising  into  importance.  That  city  had,  owing  to 
its  hostility  with  Persia,  deserted  the  side  of  the  Greeks  for 
that  of  the  Makedonians.  It  was  from  Byzantium  that  Alex- 
ander summoned  triremes  to  help  him  against  the  island  in 
the  Danube  on  which  the  king  of  the  Triballi  had  taken  ref- 

*  Arrian's  account  is  confirmed  by  Strabo,  vii.  8,  p.  301. 


396  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

iige,  and  to  facilitate  his  passage  to  the  left  bank  of  the  river. 
The  island  was  protected  from  attack  by  steep  banks,  a  rapid 
stream,  and  the  sturdy  resistance  of  its  inhabitants,  but  the 
Byzantine  squadron  enabled  the  king  to  transport  his  troops 
across  the  river.  Just  as  the  phalanx  had  proved  too  much 
for  the  unskilled  efforts  of  the  mountaineers  of  Thrace,  so  on 
this  occasion  the  Greek  triremes  showed  themselves  incom- 
parably superior  to  the  log  canoes  with  which  the  Getse,  the 
principal  tribe  of  the  district,  used  to  navigate  the  stream. 
Boats  of  this  kind  were,  however,  used,  together  with  the  tri- 
remes, to  carry  a  larger  number  of  troops  over  the  river.  The 
Getse,  who  awaited  the  king  in  hostile  array,  were  astonished 
at  the  speed  and  apparent  slightness  of  preparation  with 
which  he  appeared  in  their  neighborhood.  The  phalanx  was 
drawn  up  in  a  long  and  threatening  line,  and  when  the  cav- 
alry, under  command  of  the  king  himself,  formed  for  attack, 
they  at  once  gave  way.  They  were  still  in  a  half-nomadic 
condition,  and  retreated,  with  their  wives  and  children,  and 
all  their  possessions,  into  the  wilderness  of  the  steppe,  whither 
it  was  impossible  to  follow  them. 

More  than  this  Alexander  did  not  intend  to  do.  He  could 
now  return  in  triumph  and  security  across  the  stream.  The 
expedition  itself  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  that  of  Darius 
Hystaspis,  but  regarded  from  a  wider  point  of  view  a  great 
contrast  is  apparent.  On  the  earlier  occasion  the  Persian 
forces  returned  from  the  Danube  to  attack  Makedonia  and 
Greece.  It  was  now  the  turn  of  Makedonia  and  Greece  to 
appear  independent  and  triumphant  in  the  districts  where 
Persia  was  once  victorious. 

The  great  successes  of  Alexander  induced  all  the  neighbor- 
ing nationalities  to  accept  the  proposals  of  friendship  which 
he  made  to  them.  We  hear  mention  on  this  occasion  of  the 
Kelts,  who  at  that  time  dwelt  on  the  coasts  of  the  Adriatic 
Sea.  They  appear  to  liave  underrated  the  power  of  the  king, 
but  Alexander,  though  expressing  his  surprise  at  their  con- 
duct, considered  it  advisable  to  make  alliance  with  them. 
These  events  should  not  be  left  unnoticed.  Tliey  served  to 
put  an  end  to  the  ferment  in  the  Balkan  peninsula,  and  al- 
lowed the  king  to  turn  his  attention  in  other  directions.    On 


THE  TAULANTII  AND  AGRIANL  397 

these  frontiers  the  military  forces  of  the  civilized  world  main- 
tained a  fluctuating  conflict  with  the  undisciplined  hordes  of 
the  aboriginal  or  immigrant  tribes  down  to  the  times  in  which 
Arrian  wrote.  The  names  by  which  he  designates  the  enemies 
of  Alexander  were  probably  transferred  from  the  tribes  of  his 
own  day. 

With  these  victories,  however,  Alexander's  task  in  these 
regions  was  not  yet  done.  The  nation  of  the  Taulantii  made 
hostile  movements  against  him.  The  manners  and  customs 
of  the  Taulantii  may  be  inferred  from  the  story  that,  at  the 
approach  of  the  Makedonians,  they  sacrificed  three  boys  and 
three  girls,  together  with  three  black  rams.  Alexander  had 
made  an  alliance  with  the  neighboring  tribe  of  the  Agriani, 
who  were  hostile  to  the  Taulantii,  and  whose  archers  were  of 
great  service  to  him.  The  Grcsco-Makedonian  military  sys- 
tem was  here,  as  usual,  victorious.  In  spite  of  the  mountain- 
ous ground,  the  phalanx  showed  a  capacity  for  manoeuvring 
in  the  closest  order,  and  in  the  most  diverse  directions,  such 
as  it  never  before  displayed.  The  rapid  advance,  which  no 
local  difficulties  could  hinder,  the  charge  itself,  the  clash  of 
the  spears  striking  against  the  shields,  so  terrified  the  enemy 
that  they  fled  from  the  strongholds  whicli  they  had  occupied, 
but  did  not  venture  to  defend.  Thus  it  was  that  the  military 
science  of  the  Greeks,  before  whose  steady  array  the  Illyrians 
had  formerly  recoiled,  now  still  further  developed  by  Philip 
and  Alexander,  became  supreme  in  the  territory  of  the  bar- 
baric and  semi-barbaric  nations  which  surrounded  Makedonia. 
Alexander  completed  the  task  which  his  father  had  left  un- 
finished, and  could  now,  after  his  example,  turn  his  arms  in 
other  directions. 

In  Greece  false  reports  concerning  the  progress  of  events 
in  the  north  had  raised  to  fever  heat  the  general  ferment 
which  naturally  existed.  Alexander  relied  upon  the  resolutions 
of  the  League  of  the  Public  Peace,  which  had  recognized  his 
father  and  afterwards  himself  as  its  head.  But  he  was  now 
opposed  by  all  those  who  were  unable  to  forget  their  former 
condition,  and  who  preferred  the  alliance  with  Persia  which 
had  left  them  independent,  to  the  league  with  Makedonia 
which  robbed  them  of  their  autonomy.    Let  us  not  too  hastily 


398  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

condemn  Demosthenes  for  yielding  to  these  ideas.  Thebes 
took  the  lead  of  the  malcontents,  and  set  about  ridding  her- 
self of  the  garrison  which  Philip  had  placed  in  the  Cadraeia. 
She  thus  became  the  centre  of  the  whole  Hellenic  opposition. 
The  enemies  of  Makedon,  who  had  been  exiled  from  every 
city,  assembled  in  Thebes,  and  did  their  best  to  rouse  the 
people  by  recalling  to  their  minds  the  triumphs  of  Epamei- 
nondas  and  his  glorious  activity.  The  same  party  was  stirring 
in  Lakedsemon,  in  Arcadia,  in  ^tolia,  and,  above  all,  at  Athens. 
From  Athens  the  Thebans  were  supplied,  through  the  media- 
tion of  Demosthenes,  and  doubtless  by  means  of  Persian  gold, 
with  arms,  of  which  they  were  likely  to  stand  in  need.  When 
we  consider  that  Persia  was  at  this  time  omnipotent  in  Asia 
Minor,  and  that  Alexander  had  his  hands  full  in  the  north,  we 
can  see  that  the  prospects  of  the  Theban  rising  were  by  no 
means  hopeless. 

But  Alexander  had  no  sooner  settled  with  his  enemies  in 
the  north  than  he  turned  to  Hellas.  So  rapid  was  his  move- 
ment that  he  found  the  pass  of  Thermopylae  still  open,  and, 
long  before  he  was  expected,  appeared  before  the  walls  of 
Thebes.  His  primary  object  w^as  to  relieve  the  Cadmeia,  the 
most  important  position  in  Boeotia.  The  Thebans  were  act- 
ively engaged  in  the  siege  of  the  fortress,  and  had  already 
surrounded  it  with  a  kind  of  circumvallation.  The  same  fate 
appeared  to  threaten  the  Makedonian  garrison  which  had 
once  befallen  the  Lakedcemonian.  The  Thebans  thought  first 
to  seize  the  fortress,  and  then  to  defeat  the  king.  Alexander 
at  once  advanced  against  them  from  a  strong  position  which 
he  had  occupied  in  the  neighborhood.  In  the  proclamations 
of  the  heralds,  which  answer  to  the  manifestoes  of  our  day, 
we  clearly  see  the  point  at  issue,  and  the  grounds  on  which 
either  side  relied  for  justification.  Alexander  offered  pardon 
to  all  who  would  return  to  the  League  of  the  Public  Peace. 
The  Thebans  claimed  the  assistance  of  all  those  who  were 
minded,  in  alliance  with  the  Great  King,  to  maintain  the  au- 
tonomy of  the  Hellenes. 

It  is  clear  that  Alexander,  in  whose  army  there  served  a 
largo  body  of  Greek  allies,  whose  own  troops  were  flashed 
with  recent  victory,  and  whose  garrison  still  held  the  fortress, 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THEBES.  399 

was  from  the  first  superior  to  the  enemy.  It  was  a  striking 
outcome  of  Greek  autonomy  that  the  Thebans,  in  spite  of 
their  inferiority,  determined  to  resist.  They  believed  that  the 
military  exercises  gone  through  in  their  gymnastic  schools, 
and  the  physical  strength  with  which  they  were  endowed  by 
nature,  would  enable  them  to  withstand  any  foe.  It  is  re- 
markable that  they  paid  no  attention  to  the  unfavorable 
omens  that  occurred  before  the  battle.  Such  omens,  they 
said,  had  occurred  before  the  battle  of  Leuctra,  and  yet  that 
battle  had  been  their  greatest  triumph.  Philosophic  doubt 
had  made  its  way  even  to  Thebes,  and  the  Thebans  hoped  to 
overcome  the  opposition  of  fate  by  dint  of  manly  resolu- 
tion. No  doubt  the  exiles  from  other  cities,  whose  only 
chance  of  safety  lay  in  Thebes,  kept  up  and  even  heightened 
their  zeal. 

But  with  all  their  exertions  they  were  no  match  for  their 
too  powerful  enemy.  Of  the  battle  and  its  issue  we  have  two 
accounts,  differing  according  to  the  point  of  view  of  the  two 
parties.  According  to  the  one,  the  Thebans  were  overpow- 
ered in  front  of  their  walls,  and,  as  they  retreated,  the  Make- 
donians  pressed  in  with  them  into  the  city  itself.  According 
to  the  other  account,  the  Thebans  made  an  energetic  and  suc- 
cessful resistance  to  the  Makedonian  attack  in  front  of  their 
city  until  Alexander  forced  his  way  througli  a  gate  but  slight- 
ly guarded,  and  was  followed  by  his  troops  into  the  town. 
However  this  may  be,  the  result  was  a  catastrophe  disastrous 
for  Thebes.  In  the  market-place,  in  the  streets,  in  the  very 
houses,  there  ensued  a  hideous  massacre.  The  friends  of  the 
Thebans  assure  us  that  not  one  of  the  conquered  bowed  the 
knee  before  the  conqueror,  or  pleaded  for  mercy,  but  that 
they  died  as  men  who  welcomed  death.  The  Hellenic  allies 
of  Alexander  appear  to  have  equalled,  if  not  exceeded,  the 
Makedonians  in  bloodthirstiness.  The  victors  were,  however, 
not  satisfied  with  the  slaughter.  Alexander  summoned  a 
meeting  of  his  League,  by  which  the  complete  destruction  of 
Thebes  was  decreed,  and  this  destruction  was  actually  carried 
out  (October,  335  b.c). 

In  Grecian  history  it  was  no  unheard-of  event  that  the 
members  of  the  defeated  nation  should  be  sold  into  slavery, 


400  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMI^IRE. 

and  so  it  happened  on  this  occasion.  The  sale  of  the  slaves 
supplied  Alexander  with  a  snm  of  money  which  was  no  in- 
considerable addition  to  his  military  chest.  But  his  main  ob- 
ject was  to  strike  terror,  and  this  was  spread  through  Greece 
by  the  ruthless  destruction  of  the  city  of  (Edipus,  of  Pindar, 
and  of  Epameinondas.  The  dwelling-house  of  Pindar,  who 
had  sung  the  praises  of  the  -^akida?,  from  whom  Alexander 
claimed  descent,  is  said  to  have  been  spared  in  the  destruction 
which  spared  nothing  else.  Deep  and  universal  horror  fell 
upon  the  Greeks.  All  the  movements  against  Alexander 
which  had  been  contemplated  were  stifled  in  their  birth.  On 
this  occasion,  as  before,  the  attitude  of  Athens  was  of  the 
greatest  importance.  Her  submissiveness  did  not  go  to  the 
length  of  giving  up  to  Alexander  his  principal  opponents,  the 
orators,  the  mouthpieces,  as  it  were,  of  the  idea  of  autonomy. 
This  last  disgrace  was  avoided ;  but  the  Athenians  promised 
to  bring  to  trial  those  of  whom  Alexander  complained.  This 
concession  sufficed  for  the  moment,  for  the  issue  of  the  con- 
flict with  Thebes  had  worked  almost  as  powerfully  as  the  bat- 
tle of  Chseroneia  to  render  the  king's  party  supreme  in  the 
assembly.  When  those  about  him  expressed  their  astonish- 
ment that  the  Greeks  had  been  so  rapidly  dispersed,  Alex- 
ander answered  that  only  the  habit  of  putting  nothing  off  had 
secured  him  the  victory. 

The  close  connection  that  existed  at  this  moment  between 
Grecian  and  Persian  affairs  forbade  him  to  lose  a  moment  in 
turning  his  arms  towards  Asia.  It  has  always  been  assumed 
that  Alexander,  from  the  moment  that  he  ascended  the  throne, 
had  contemplated  the  overthrow  of  the  Persian  empire :  that 
he  saw  his  calling,  so  to  speak,  in  this  enterprise.  I  cannot 
venture  to  repeat  this  opinion  without  some  limitations;  but 
no  doubt  the  tendency  of  events  led  him  more  and  more 
strongly  in  that  direction.  A  war  between  Alexander  and 
Persia  was  inevitable,  not  only  on  account  of  the  relation  of 
the  Greeks  to  Makcdon,  whoso  yoke  they  were  very  loath  to 
bear,  but  on  account  of  their  relation  to  Persia,  on  whose  sup- 
port they  leaned.  But  an  intention  to  make  war  upon  Persia 
is  not  the  same  thing  as  an  intention  to  overthrow  the  Persian 
empire.    All  that  was  necessary  was  to  expel  the  Persians 


AFFAIRS  IN  PERSIA.  401 

from  the  districts  which  they  liad  once  wrested  from  the  Lyd- 
ians;  for  in  those  districts  all  who  opposed  the  Makedoni- 
ans  found  .a  refuge.  The  adv^antages  which  Alexander  had 
won  in  Greece  seemed  likely  to  be  but  of  momentary  dura- 
tion so  long  as  the  great  power  on  his  flank  lent  support  to 
his  foes. 

Let  us  return  for  a  moment  to  the  relations  formed  during 
the  recent  conflict  between  Artaxerxes  and  Nectanebus.  It 
will  be  recollected  that  the  Persians  owed  the  reconquest  of 
Egypt  and  the  recovery  of  their  dominion  in  Asia  Minor  to 
the  skill  and  bravery  of  Greek  mercenaries.  Mentor,  the 
leader  of  these  troops,  had,  however,  not  served  Persia  for 
nothing.  He  had  lent  his  aid,  as  we  saw  above,  on  certain 
conditions,  and  as  a  reward  for  his  services  he  now  shared  the 
complete  command  with  Bagoas,  who  was  omnipotent  at  the 
court  of  Susa.  Mentor  kept  control  over  the  Persian  forces 
in  Asia  Minor,  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  on  its  coasts.  "We 
have  already  seen  what  use  he  made  of  these  forces  against 
PJiilip  of  Makedon.  He  helcj  a  commanding  position  when 
Alexander  ascended  the  throne.  The  latter,  if  he  was  to 
maintain  the  supremacy  which  his  father  had  seized,  was 
obliged  to  make  war  on  Mentor  and  the  Persians,  as  formerly 
on  the  Triballi  and  on  Thebes.  The  career  which  Philip  had 
begun,  and  in  which  Alexander  was  now  proceeding,  led  of 
necessity  to  a  struggle  with  the  power  that  held  sway  in  Asia 
Minor.  Until  that  power  were  defeated,  the  Makedonian 
kingdom  could  not  be  regarded  as  firmly  established. 

Since  an  attack  on  Asia  Minor  involved  open  hostilities 
with  the  empire  of  the  Achaemenidae,  it  was  fortunate  that 
such  an  undertaking  was  facilitated  by  the  events  which  just 
then  took  place  in  Persia.  A  dispute  about  the  succession  to 
the  throne  had  again  broken  out.  As  was  not  uncommon  in 
Persia,  the  dispute  took  place  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
reigning  prince.  Bagoas  could  therefore  take  measures  to 
assure  himself  of  power  in  the  future.  We  are  told  that  the 
eunuch  himself  put  to  death  the  aged  monarch,  and  set  aside 
all  his  sons  excepting  Arses,  the  youngest  of  them,  whom 
he  placed  upon  the  throne.  After  some  years  he  is  said  to 
have  fallen  out  with  the  new  king,  and  to  have  disposed  of 

26 


402  THE  MAIvEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

him  in  like  manner.  In  the  place  of  Arses  he  set  up  one  of 
his  friends,  Darius  Codomannus,  who  belonged  to  another 
line  of  the  Achsemenid  house.*  Not  long  after  his  friend  had 
taken  possession  of  the  throne  of  Darius  Ilystaspis,  Bagoas 
quarrelled  with  him  like  the  rest.  It  is  said  that  he  offered 
the  king  a  poisoned  cup,  but  that  Darius,  warned  in  time, 
compelled  him  to  drink  it  himself.  We  cannot  investigate 
the  truth  of  these  stories  in  detail,  but  the  mere  fact  of  a  vio- 
lent change  in  the  government,  even  if  this  did  not  involve  a 
change  of  dynasty,  shook  the  whole  empire  to  its  base.  The 
death  of  Bagoas,  who  had  hitherto  wielded  the  supreme 
power,  must  have  made  a  great  difference  in  the  internal 
affairs  of  Persia.  The  power  of  Bagoas  had  been  intimately 
connected  with  the  authority  of  the  commander  of  the  mer- 
cenaries in  Asia  Minor.  Mentor  himself  was  dead,  but  his 
brother  Memnon  managed  to  retain  possession  of  the  power 
which  the  former  had  exercised.  His  relation  to  the  Great 
King,  to  whom  he  remained  faithful,  was  essentially  different 
from  that  which  his  brother  had  established  by  his  services  in 
Phoenicia  and  Egypt.  The  rise  of  a  second  line  of  the  Achoe- 
menid  house  could  not  fail  to  have  its  effect  upon  the  holders 
of  the  highest  offices  of  state  and  especially  the  satraps. 

We  cannot  say  with  certainty  that  it  was  these  circum- 
stances which  induced  Alexander  to  undertake  his  campaign, 
but  the  circumstances  were  notorious  and  tended  to  his  ad- 
vantage. We  ma}^  however,  regard  the  matter  from  another 
point  of  view.     The  enterprise  of  Alexander,  while  owing  its 


*  According  to  Diodorus,  Darius  ascended  the  throne  a  little  bcforo 
the  time  of  Philip's  death  (Diod.  xvii.  7:  Aapuog  napaXafiiliv  Ttjv  I3aai\eiav 
irpit  fiiv  riJQ  ^iKiTTTTov  reXfurf/f  t^iXon/iJiro  tov  /itXXovra  iroXffiov  ti'c  rtjv 
MoKiSoviav  ajroaTptxI/ai).  Tiicrewith  agrees  the  statement  in  Syncellus 
(p.  201,  cd.  Par.;  p.  501,  ed.  Bonn.)  to  the  effect  that  Alexander  became 
king  in  the  first  year  of  Darius,  as  well  as  the  reckoning  of  the  duration 
of  Darius's  reign  at  six  years  and  two  months,  which  is  found  in  Jo- 
hannes Antiochenus;  the  accession  of  Darius  would  thus  have  taken 
place  in  the  spring  of  336,  since  he  died  in  August,  830.  On  the  other 
hand,  according  to  the  Ptolemaic  canon  Darius  must  have  succeeded  in 
the  year  413  of  the  era  of  Nabonassar,  i.  c.  after  November  15,  in  the 
year  880  b.c. 


NEED  OF  WAR  WITH  PERSIA.  403 

immediate  occasion  to  the  complications  of  the  moment,  has 
also  what  we  may  call  its  universal-historical  side.  It  is  unde- 
niable that  the  existence  of  the  Iranian  monarchy  in  the 
regions  of  its  birth  was  justified  by  the  grandeur  of  the  relig- 
ious and  political  views  which  it  represented.  But  to  rule 
the  world  was  beyond  the  capacity  of  the  Persians.  The 
Persian  empire  had  become  powerful,  because  wherever  it  ap- 
peared it  put  an  end  to  the  mutual  rivalries  of  the  nations 
with  which  it  came  in  contact.  But  it  did  not  follow  that 
Egypt,  with  its  thoroughly  local  ideas,  should  remain  forever 
chained  to  a  distant  throne.  It  did  not  follow  that  the  sea- 
faring people  of  Phoenicia  should  establish  a  species  of  mari- 
time empire  with  the  sole  object  of  laying  out  pleasure-gar- 
dens for  the  Persian  satraps.  Between  the  superstitions  of 
Syria  and  the  dualistic  religion  of  Persia  there  was  a  wide 
gulf,  even  if  the  contrast  was  not  always  apparent.  "Was  the 
priesthood  of  Baal,  at  Babylon,  a  priesthood  w^hich  exercised 
sway  over  a  considerable  portion  of  the  world,  likely  to  sub- 
mit contentedly  to  the  protection  of  the  Great  King  and  of 
his  religion  ?  If  there  was  nothing  else  to  hinder  this,  it  was 
rendered  impossible  by  the  existence  of  a  great  Tyrian  colony 
in  the  western  basin  of  the  Mediterranean,  which  exercised 
intellectual  and  political  dominion  over  a  great  part  of  the 
west.  "Western  Asia  was  in  a  state  of  ceaseless  ferment. 
The  nations  who  inhabited  that  district  enjoyed  a  certain  con- 
sideration from  the  Persians,  but  they  were  chained  to  the 
chariot  of  the  Great  King,  whose  religious  ideas  attained  their 
climax  in  the  thought  that  universal  dominion  belonged  to 
him.  But  to  what  would  such  a  dominion  have  led  if  it  could 
ever  have  been  attained?  The  further  existence  of  these 
nations,  as  such,  depended  on  the  reduction  of  the  Persian 
power  to  something  less  than  its  present  extent. 

To  leave  reflections  of  this  nature,  there  was  still  an  im- 
pulse from  earlier  times,  which  had  a  tendency  analogous  to 
that  of  the  conditions  we  have  just  considered.  "When  the 
Makedonians  assumed  the  hegemony  of  Greece,  they  were 
naturally  prompted  to  make  use  of  the  antipathy  which  the 
Greeks  for  more  than  a  century  and  a  half  had  cherished 
against  the  Persians.     The  idea  of  avenging  the  Grecian  gods 


404  THE  AL\KEDONIAN  EMPIKE. 

upon  the  Persians  had  been  conceived  by  Pericles,  and  had 
roused  Agesilaus  to  the  greatest  activity.  This  enthusiasm 
was  by  no  means  common  to  the  whole  nation,  but  it  had 
never  died  out  or  been  eradicated.  The  opponents  of  those 
who  had  formed  the  league  with  Persia  held  fast  to  that  idea, 
and  at  the  head  of  this  party  now  appeared  the  kings  of 
Makedonia.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that  the  supremacy 
which  Philip  and  Alexander  enjoyed  in  Greece  was  closely 
connected  with  an  object  of  religious  reverence  to  all  Greeks 
alike.  They  had  appeared  in  Greece  as  the  protectors  of  the 
Delphic  oracle,  which  embraced  and  united  in  one  harmoni- 
ous whole  all  the  religious  feelings  of  Greece. 

Never  was  there  a  prince  more  capable  than  Alexander  of 
absorbing  and  representing  ideas  like  these.  They  corre- 
sponded to  the  pride  and  traditions  of  his  family.  His  boast 
was  not  only  that  he  was  descended  from  Heracles,  whose 
actions  procured  him  a  place  among  the  gods,  but  also  from 
the  ^Eakidse,  whose  fame,  founded  on  the  poems  of  Homer, 
was  in  all  men-s  mouths.  He  believed  himself  called  to  con- 
tinue the  heroic  deeds  of  the  Trojan  war,  and  to  fight  out  the 
battle  which,  according  to  the  conception  of  the  earliest  histo- 
rian, had  raged  from  time  immemorial  between  Europe  and 
Asia. 

In  Alexander's  breast  there  beat  a  pulse  at  once  poetical 
and  religious,  animated  by  the  honors  paid  to  his  heroic  an- 
cestors, and  by  the  legends  which  the  poets  had  made  the 
propert}'  of  the  nation.  For  him,  the  poems  of  Homer  were 
a  sort  of  legal  document  on  which  he  based  his  rights,  while 
he  held  fast  to  the  national  religion  with  a  kind  of  fervor. 
This  fervor  has  been  well  traced  to  the  fact  that  his  mother, 
Olympias,  his  youthful  attachment  to  whom  was  heightened 
by  the  injustice  which  she  had  received  from  his  father,  had 
initiated  him  in  the  Samothracian  mysteries.  But,  at  the 
same  time,  he  was  the  pupil  of  Aristotle,  who,  as  already 
pointed  out,  was  eager,  for  the  sake  of  their  own  civilization, 
to  free  the  Asiatics  from  tlie  Persian  yoke.  In  Alexander 
an  enthusiastic  imagination  was  allied  with  Hellenic  ideas  in 
general.  While  forcing  the  Greeks  to  submit  to  his  lead,  he 
nourished  the  thought  that  it  was  their  war  with  the  Persians 


INVASION  OF  PERSIA.  405 

that  he  was  about  to  renew,  and  their  culture  for  which  he 
was  to  open  a  wider  field  of  influence.  Alexander  is  one  of 
the  few  men  whose  personal  biography  is  closely  interwoven 
with  the  world's  history.  The  natural  bent  of  his  character 
led  to  the  conclusion  of  a  struggle,  begun  centuries  before, 
on  the  issue  of  which  the  further  progress  of  human  develop- 
ment depended. 

When  Alexander  set  out  on  his  great  enterprise,  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  leave  behind  him  a  considerable  portion  of  his 
army,  under  command  of  Antipater,  to  maintain  his  authority 
in  Makedonia  and  Greece.  In  the  infantry  which  followed 
him  to  Asia  the  allies  and  Greek  mercenaries  were  quite  as 
numerous  as  the  Makedonians.  Beside  these,  there  were 
Odrysians,  Triballi,  Illyrians,  and  Agrianian  archers.  The 
Thessalian  cavalry  were  equal  in  number  to  the  Makedonian, 
and  in  addition  there  were  cavalry  of  pure  Greek  extraction, 
and  Thracian  and  Pseonian  horsemen.  All  were  under  trusty 
and  experienced  commanders,  who  had  attached  themselves  to 
Alexander  in  his  recent  undertakings.  They  gladly  recog- 
nized in  him  their  general,  as  he  had  proved  himself  in  the 
field,  thongh  all  did  not  recognize  him  as  their  native  king. 
But  that  he  was  such  a  king  was  never  for  a  moment  for- 
gotten. 

The  Greek  colonies,  which  had  thwarted  Philip,  were  not 
inclined  to  oppose  his  son,  and  Alexander,  like  Xerxes,  crossed 
the  Hellespont  without  meeting  any  resistance.  The  crossing 
took  place  in  the  early  spring  of  the  year  334  b.c.  The 
smallness  of  the  Grecian  army,  which  numbered  only  35,000 
men,  was  compensated  by  its  military  experience,  and  the  fleet 
which  carried  it  across  the  straits  was  well  equipped.  Alex- 
ander himself  was  full  of  the  ideas  which  animate  the  Homer- 
ic poems.  Of  his  conduct  under  their  influence  we  find  two 
traditions.  According  to  the  one,  which  has  the  weight  of 
Arrian's  authority,  he  offered  a  sacrifice,  immediately  on  his 
landing,  at  the  grave  of  Protesilaus,  who,  as  we  read  in  the 
Homeric  poem,  had  been  the  first  to  touch  the  land,  and  had 
immediately  perished.  The  meaning  of  the  sacrifice  was  that 
Alexander,  on  coming  to  land,  wished  to  be  saved  from  the 
fate  of  him  whom  he  imitated.     The  other  tradition,  whicli 


406  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

we  find  in  Diodorus,  is  to  the  effect  that  Alexander,  when  his 
ships  first  drew  near  the  Trojan  shore,  threw  his  spear  to  land. 
The  spear  penetrated  the  ground,  and  he  sprang  to  shore  with 
the  remark  that  he  took  it  as  a  lucky  omen  that  Asia  was  to 
be  a  prey  to  his  arms.  The  connection  of  these  stories  with 
Homeric  times  is  undeniable.  Such  ideas  had  already  ap- 
peared in  Agesilaus.  AVhat  Agesilaus  had  failed  to  do,  the 
king  of  Makedonia  now  undertook,  with  the  widest  intentions 
and  in  the  noblest  style. 

The  army  assembled  at  Arisbe,  and,  after  leaving  garrisons 
in  a  few  places,  marched  against  the  Persians,  who  collected 
their  forces  on  the  other  side  of  the  Graneicus.  We  are  in- 
formed that  between  Memnon  and  the  Persians  who  were 
present  in  Asia  Minor,  and  who  were  mostly  friends  or  rela- 
tions of  the  king,  some  misunderstanding  had  arisen  as  to  the 
plan  of  the  campaign.  Nothing  is  more  probable,  for  the 
Persians  belonged  to  the  new  government,  and  naturally 
looked  askance  at  a  commander  of  Greek  mercenaries  whose 
power  paralyzed  their  own.  Memnon,  we  are  told,  was  in- 
clined to  put  off  the  decisive  conflict,  and  to  lay  waste  the 
neighboring  districts,  in  order  to  make  it  difficult,  if  not  im- 
possible, for  the  Makedonians  to  obtain  provisions.  He  had 
himself  lived  for  a  time  at  the  Makedonian  court,  where  he 
had  become  acquainted  with  the  military  strength  of  Make- 
donia and  with  the  relations  between  that  country  and  the 
Greeks.  He  was  convinced  that  the  war  with  Alexander 
should  be  carried  on  by  the  same  methods  as  those  that  had 
proved  successful  against  the  superior  forces  of  Athens  and 
the  invasions  of  Agesilaus.  That  is  to  say,  the  war  must  be 
transferred  to  Greece  itself,  and  for  this  purpose  the  superi- 
ority of  the  Persian  navy  to  the  Makedonian  gave  them  great 
advantages.  But  to  all  this  the  Persians  turned  a  deaf  ear. 
They  would  not  for  a  moment  endure  the  presence  of  a  for- 
eign prince  in  the  territory  which  had  so  long  been  subject 
to  the  Great  King.  They  said,  with  some  justice,  that  not  a 
single  village  could  be  ceded  to  King  Alexander.  To  this 
resolution  they  obstinately  adhered,  and  determined  to  meet 
the  king  on  the  steep  banks  of  the  Graneicus  (May,  334  b.c). 

At  the  very  crossing  of  the  river  Alexander  displayed  the 


BATTLE  OF  THE  GRANEICUS.^^^Jpii|^lg\^ 

full  superiority  of  his  military  talent.  The  Persians 
pected  that  the  Makedonians  would  try  to  cross  in  columns, 
in  which  case  tlie  stream  itself  and  the  marshy  ground  would 
give  them  the  opportunity  of  throwing  the  enemy  into  con- 
fusion. But  Alexander,  instead  of  arranging  his  troops  in  col- 
umns, drew  them  up  in  a  long  line  of  battle  along  the  shore. 
He  then  formed  smaller  divisions  of  cavalry  and  infantry, 
who,  by  supporting  each  other  as  they  crossed  the  stream, 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  opposite  side.  In  climbing  the 
steep  bank  a  struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  Persians,  by  hurl- 
ing their  lances  down  on  the  advancing  troops,  caused  some 
confusion,  but  only  for  a  moment.  The  Makedonians,  armed 
with  long  spears  with  shafts  of  seasoned  wood,  pressed  irre- 
sistibly onwards  immediately  under  the  eye  of  the  king. 

No  sooner  was  the  opposite  bank  reached  than  a  new  en- 
gagement took  place  between  the  Persian  and  Makedonian 
cavalry.  In  this  conflict  the  king  distinguished  himself  be- 
yond any  of  his  followers.  In  that  age  the  issue  of  a  battle 
was  often  decided  by  a  duel  between  the  commanders,  and 
it  was  after  winning  such  a  duel  that  Darius  Codomannus 
ascended  the  throne.  In  this  case  the  son-in-law  of  Darius, 
at  the  head  of  a  squadron  drawn  up  in  the  form  of  a  wedge, 
threw  himself  upon  Alexander.  Alexander  met  him  with 
great  bravery,  and  hurled  him  from  his  horse.  Another 
noble  Persian  was  unhorsed  by  him  with  a  thrust  of  his  spear. 
A  third,  who  fell  upon  the  king,  and  had  actually  raised  his 
sword  to  strike  him,  was  anticipated  by  Cleitus,  a  personal 
friend  of  Alexander,  who,  coming  up  in  the  nick  of  time, 
dealt  the  assailant  a  blow  which  severed  his  head  from  his 
body.  Such  is  the  story  related  by  the  trustworthy  author 
whom  Arrian  follows.*  But  enough  of  details.  The  Persian 
cavalry  lost  in  this  battle  the  prestige  which  they  had  hitherto 
enjoyed.  The  only  serious  resistance  which  Alexander  met 
was  from  the  Greek  mercenaries,  but  these,  too,  he  over- 
powered. 

The  victory  thus  won  was  followed  by  decisive  results 
throughout  the  whole  country.    The  Persian  commander  and 

*  I  pass  over  the  diflferences  in  the  story  as  told  by  other  authors. 


408  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

the  most  eminent  citizens  of  Sardis  united,  at  the  approach 
of  Alexander,  to  surrender  to  him  both  city  and  fortress. 
Thence  he  turned  his  steps  to  Miletus.  Hard  pressed  by  land 
and  sea,  tlie  inhabitants  of  Miletus  and  the  foreigners  in  the 
city  became  aware  that  they  could  not  hold  the  town.  The 
inhabitants  surrendered  and  were  kindly  received  by  the  con- 
queror.* The  resistance  attempted  by  the  rest  of  the  popula- 
tion led  only  to  their  destruction. 

The  scene  of  conflict  next  shifted  to  llalicarnassus.  Mem- 
non  had  thrown  himself  into  that  city  with  all  the  forces 
still  capable  of  fighting.  By  intrusting  his  wife  and  child  to 
the  Persian  king  as  hostages,  he  obviated  all  mistrust  and 
jealousy,  and  under  his  leadership  the  inhabitants  made  a 
vigorous  defence.  We  have  two  accounts  of  the  siege,  one 
of  which  comes  from  the  Makedonian  camp,  while  the  other 
is  derived  from  Groeco-Persian  sources.  Both  are  trustwor- 
thy, and,  although  originating  on  different  sides,  really  im- 
partial. We  gather  from  these  accounts,  on  the  one  hand, 
that  the  attack  was  made  with  all  the  siege-artillery  which 
military  science,  as  then  understood  in  Greece,  could  bring 
into  the  field,  and  that  this  artillery  was  worked  by  the 
bravest  and  most  experienced  troops ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  infer  that  the  courage  and  skill  of  the  defenders^ 
who  relied  chiefly  on  great  catapults  erected  on  the  walls, 
was  equal  to  that  of  their  assailants.  The  defenders  made 
several  sorties,  in  which  they  succeeded  in  setting  on  fire  the 
wooden  battering-engines  erected  by  tlie  enemy.  In  the  city 
there  were  several  Athenians  of  the  party  which  rejected 
every  compromise  with  Alexander.  One  of  these,  named 
Ephialtes,  who  combined  great  resolution  with  enormous  phys- 
ical strength,  gained  great  reputation  in  the  town.  Alex- 
ander had  offered  an  armistice  in  order  to  bury  the  soldiers 
who  had  fallen  before  the  w^alls.  Memnon  granted  this  in 
spite  of  the  opposition  of  Ephialtes,  who  would  have  nothing 
to  say  to  it.  But  when  Ephialtes  advised  the  garrison  to 
bring  matters  to  a  close  by  means  of  a  sortie  in  force,  liis  pro- 

♦  So  we  arc  assured  by  Diodonis,  the  question  of  whoso  trustworthi- 
ness I  reserve  for  special  consideration. 


CONQUEST  OF  ASIA  MINOR.  409 

posal  was  accepted  by  Memnon,  and  the  sortie  took  place. 
The  defenders  succeeded  in  burning  the  best  of  the  enemy's 
machines,  and  in  the  conflict  which  thus  originated  there  came 
a  moment  in  which  the  besieged  had  good  hopes  of  victory. 
But  when  Alexander  with  liis  best  troops  entered  the  field, 
the  enemy  gave  way.  Ephialtes  himself  perished,  and  the 
Makedonians  would  have  penetrated  into  the  city  along  with 
the  flying  foe,  had  not  Alexander  himself  restrained  them. 
The  advantage  already  gained  was  decisive.  The  besieged 
had  suffered  such  heavy  losses  that,  with  Menmon's  consent, 
they  resolved  to  give  up  the  city.  They  transported  the 
greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  to  a  neighboring  island,  and 
garrisoned  only  the  Acropolis  with  sucli  troops  as  were  still 
capable  of  fighting.  Alexander  took  possession  of  the  town 
and  levelled  it  with  the  ground.  lie  had  no  intention  of 
wasting  time  over  the  siege  of  the  citadel.  He  was  now  mas- 
ter of  the  coasts,  and  had  freed  the  Greek  cities  from  the  Per- 
sian yoke.  He  relieved  them  from  the  tribute  they  had  hith- 
erto paid,  and  gave  them  permission  to  live  under  their  own 
laws.  He  made  no  opposition  to  the  revolutions  which  every- 
where took  place,  by  which  oligarchs  were  displaced,  and  a 
democratic  form  of  government  restored. 

In  Ephesus,  the  revenue  derived  from  the  tribute  hitherto 
paid  was  dedicated  to  the  shrine  of  Artemis  in  that  city.  This 
shrine  was  the  most  important  of  those  in  which  the  worship 
of  that  goddess  was  carried  on  in  pure  Hellenic  fashion.  The 
position  which  Alexander  had  taken  up  as  champion  of  the 
Greek  nationality  he  maintained  with  magnificent  consistency. 
From  the  spoils  taken  at  the  Graneicus  he  selected  three  hun- 
dred suits  of  armor,  which  he  sent  as  a  votive  offering  to  the 
shrine  of  Pallas  at  Athens.  On  them  were  inscribed  the 
words, "  Alexander  and  all  the  Greeks,  except  the  Lakedae- 
monians,  present  these  spoils,  taken  from  the  Asiatic  bar- 
barians." But  Alexander  meant  also  to  appear  as  the  libera- 
tor of  the  native  population.  He  permitted  the  Lydians  to 
live  after  their  ancient  laws.  Sardis  was  now  taken  for  the 
third  time.  As  a  sign  to  what  system  it  was  thenceforward 
to  belong,  Alexander  founded  a  temple  to  Olympian  Zeus  on 
the  place  where  the  ancient  royal  palace  had  stood.    He  left 


410  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

a  body  of  Makedonian  troops  for  the  protection  of  the  Carian 
princess  Ada,  who  placed  herself  under  his  protection  and 
adopted  him  as  her  son.  The  league  of  the  Lycian  cities  did 
him  homage  (winter  of  334-3  e.g.).  He  was  greeted  by  the 
inhabitants  of  Phaselis  with  a  golden  crown  as  soon  as  he  came 
into  their  neighborhood.  In  return  for  this,  he  did  them  the 
service  of  destroying  a  fortified  post  which  the  plundering 
tribes  of  Pisidia  had  erected  on  their  frontier.  From  the 
latter,  who  had  never  been  subdued  by  the  Persians,  he 
wrested  the  command  of  their  mountain-passes,  and  made  his 
way  through  the  midst  of  their  country  to  the  fortress  of 
Gordium.  Here  he  was  joined  by  Parmenio,  who  meanwhile 
had  traversed  Phrygia.  J^either  one  nor  the  other  had  met 
with  any  real  resistance  in  the  interior  of  Asia  Minor.  The 
importance  of  Gordium  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  enabled  Alex- 
ander to  maintain  his  communications  with  the  Hellespont 
and  with  Makedonia. 

Meanwhile,  Memnon,  formally  intrusted  by  the  Persian 
court  with  supreme  command,  and  furnished  with  the  needful 
pecuniary  means,  had  set  about  the  execution  of  his  original 
plan,  that  of  stirring  up  opposition  to  the  Makedonian  king 
in  liis  rear  in  Hellas.  He  launched  a  fleet  of  three  hundred 
sail  and  manned  it  with  mercenary  troops.  The  fleet  directed 
its  course  upon  Chios,  which  was  at  once  conquered.  Lesbos 
was  next  taken  and  even  My tilene ;  the  latter,  however,  not 
without  considerable  trouble.*  Thereupon  the  Kyklades  sent 
envoys  to  greet  him.  In  the  treaties  made  in  consequence 
of  these  events,  the  provisions  of  the  peace  of  Antalkidas 
were  renewed.  It  was  thought  that  the  fleet  would  arrive  in 
a  short  time  off  Eubcea.  The  party  favorable  to  Persia  was 
everywhere  stirring,  and  especially  in  Lakedcemon.  A  com- 
plete turn  of  affairs  was  universally  expected. 

Acting  in  harmony  with  his  allies,  the  king  of  Persia  col- 
lected all  his  forces  to  oppose  an  enemy  who  attacked  liim 
with  greater  vehemence  than  any  had  attacked  before.    Ho 


♦  Diodorus  (xvii.  29)  says  this  expressly :  *^fi6\ic  ilXe  kotA  Kpdrog.^^  Ac- 
cording to  Arrian,  ii.  1, 8,  Memnon  laid  siege  to  the  town,  but  it  was  not 
till  after  bis  death  that  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Persian  admirals. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  ISSUS.  411 

was  entirely  of  the  same  opinion  as  that  which  had  animated 
his  nearest  relations  and  friends  at  the  arrival  of  Alexander. 
He  declared  that  he  would  no  longer  tolerate  on  the  borders 
of  his  empire  that  band  of  robbers,  for  so  he  designated  Alex- 
ander and  his  troops.  He  was  eager  to  prevent  Phoenicia,  on 
wdiicli  his  nav3%  consisting  mainly  of  Plioenician  ships  and 
men,  depended,  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Make- 
donians.  It  was  true  that  his  captains  had  been  beaten  on 
the  banks  of  the  Graneicus ;  but  this  only  roused  him  to 
greater  activity.  He  mobilized  the  greater  part  of  the  forces 
of  his  empire,  and  had  no  doubt  that  they  would  overpower 
and  annihilate  the  enemy.  That  enemy  had  meanwhile  made 
rapid  progress,  but  it  was  the  universal  conviction  in  Greece 
that  his  destruction  was  certain.  In  Athens  it  was  said  that 
the  Persians  would  trample  the  Makedonians  under  their 
feet.*  Darius  himself  hoped  to  hunt  Alexander  like  a  wild 
beast. 

lie  succeeded  in  taking  possession  of  the  passes  of  Mount 
Amanus,  through  which  Alexander  had  marched,  in  the  rear 
of  the  Makedonians,  but  the  only  result  of  this  was  to  pro- 
voke the  military  ardor  of  the  latter,  who  now  saw  them- 
selves in  real  danger.  "Without  a  moment's  delay,  Alexander 
turned  round  and  attacked  the  king  at  the  point  where  he 
thought  to  hem  him  in.  The  armies  came  into  collision  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  Pinarus,  which  flows  from  the  neigh- 
boring mountains  to  the  sea  (November,  333  b.c).  The 
Makedonians  were  not  hindered  by  the  fact  that  Darius  had 
taken  up  a  strong  position  on  the  other  side  of  the  stream, 
supported  by  two  separate  bodies,  one  of  which  occupied  the 
nearer  heights,  the  other  the  sea-coast.  The  attack  was  made 
at  all  three  points,  and  the  issue  was  decided  by  the  fact  that 
the  river  proved  no  defence  for  the  king  of  Persia.  Not  only 
the  Makedonian  cavalry,  but  also  their  infantry,  passed  the 
Pinarus,  as  they  had  passed  the  Graneicus.  The  most  critical 
moment  of  the  battle  was  when  the  Makedonian  phalanx,  on 
crossing  the  stream,  came  into  collision  with  the  Greek  mer- 

*  Demosthenes  is  said  by  -^schines  (against  Ctesiplion,  §  164,  p.  177) 
to  have  used  these  words. 


412  THE  MAKEDONIAN  E^IPIRE. 

cenaries  who  guarded  the  passage.  Between  these  forces  a 
sanguinary  conflict  ensued.  The  Makedonians  were  being 
hard  pressed,  when  Alexander  hurried  up,  and  by  a  rapid 
movement  wheeled  his  infantry  so  as  to  take  the  mercenaries 
in  flank — a  manoeuvre  which  decided  the  battle. 

Tlie  struggle  was  thus  not  so  much  between  the  Persian 
and  the  Makedonian  nations  as  between  the  Makedonian  force 
drilled  after  the  Greek  model,  and  the  mercenary  troops  whom 
the  Persians  had  called  to  their  aid  from  Greece.  So  far, 
earlier  events  only  repeated  themselves  at  Issus.  Former 
victories  were  confirmed  and  completed  by  that  battle.  But 
the  battle  received  an  importance  which  exceeded  that  of  all 
preceding  victories  from  the  presence  of  the  Great  King,  who 
now  suffered  a  defeat  in  person.  Darius,  in  spite  of  his  per- 
sonal bravery,  was  forced  to  seek  safety  in  flight.  He  re- 
mained in  his  chariot  as  long  as  possible;  but  in  the  narrow 
pass  through  which  the  road  led  he  mounted  a  horse  and 
rode  away.  The  narrow  limits  and  mountainous  nature  of* 
the  battlefield,  which  might  have  proved  disastrous  to  the 
Makedonians,  now  proved  doubly  disastrous  to  the  Persians. 
Their  loss  was  enormous.  It  must  have  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion upon  Alexander  when  among  the  spoils  were  found  the 
chariot  and  the  shield,  the  bow  and  the  mantle,  of  Darius, 
which  in  his  haste  he  had  left  behind.  Alexander  had  not 
only  conquered  Asia  Minor,  but  he  had  won  a  decisive  victory 
over  the  Great  King.  His  whole  position  was  thereby  altered. 
In  the  Persian  camp  the  conqueror  found  the  mother,  wife, 
and  children  of  Darius,  who  had  followed  him  to  a  battle 
from  which  nothing  but  glory  was  expected.  Alexander  al- 
ways showed  respect  for  those  who  were,  like  himself,  of 
royal  dignity,  and  he  treated  his  distinguished  captives  with 
consideration  and  magnanimity. 

The  battle  of  the  Graneicus  liad  opened  the  way  into  Asia 
Minor ;  the  battle  of  Issus  opened  the  way  into  the  heart  of 
Persia.  A  great  general  of  this  century  has  praised  Alex- 
ander for  determining  first  of  all  to  subdue  Phconicia  and 
Egypt,  in  order  thus  to  secure  for  himself  a  basis  for  wider 
operations.  Whether  this  decision  rested  upon  personal  feel- 
ing and  military  calculation  or  not,  wo  do  not  venture  to  in- 


SIEGE  OF  TYRE.  413 

quire.  The  course  pursued  was,  in  either  case,  that  which  was 
demanded  by  the  general  position  of  affairs,  and  bj  the  prin- 
cipal aims  of  the  expedition.  The  enemy's  fleet  was  still  in 
command  of  the  sea,  and  it  was  at  this  very  moment  making 
a  descent  upon  Greece.  It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  meet 
this  attack,  but  it  could  not  be  met  directly,  for  the  Graeco- 
Makedonian  fleet  was  far  too  weak  for  the  purpose.  When 
Alexander  first  took  possession  of  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor 
it  became  evident  that  these  circumstances  involved  him  in 
almost  insuperable  difficulties.  Many  different  plans  are  said 
to  have  been  proposed  to  meet  them,  but  they  were  cut  short 
by  Alexander,  whose  general  scheme  of  action  was  determined 
by  a  portent  which  he  saw  at  Lade.  His  scheme,  which  was 
rendered  feasible  by  his  superiority  on  land,  was  briefly  this: 
to  win  control  of  the  sea  by  taking  possession  of  the  coasts 
and  the  seaports. 

The  importance  of  this  plan,  and  the  method  of  carrying 
it  out,  were  now  for  the  first  time  disclosed.  Phoenician  ships 
formed  almost  the  whole  of  the  Persian  fleet,  and  the  first  re- 
sult of  the  battle  of  Issus  was  that  Phoenicia  could  now  be 
attacked  from  the  land  side.  Everything  depended  on  the 
possession  of  Tyre.  The  Tyrians  kept  up  a  constant  connec- 
tion with  Carthage,  and  their  two  fleets,  now  joined  by  a  por- 
tion of  the  Greek  naval  force,  confined  the  Makedonian  fleet 
to  a  very  limited  space.  Their  superiority  at  sea  did  not, 
however,  save  the  greater  part  of  the  Phoenician  cities  from 
falling  into  the  hands  of  Alexander.  This  was  a  most  impor- 
tant advantage,  but  Tyre,  the  chief  city  of  Phoenicia,  refused 
to  submit,  and  forbade  Alexander  to  set  foot  within  her  walls. 
An  attempt  to  reach  the  island  by  throwing  a  causeway  across 
the  channel  was  thwarted  by  the  Tyrian  navy,  and  by  fire- 
ships  directed  against  the  mole.  Alexander  found  that  he 
could  break  the  Phoenician  resistance  only  by  means  of  the 
Phoenicians  themselves  and  their  allies.  This,  too,  was  ren- 
dered possible  by  the  victory  at  Issus. 

The  Cyprians,  alarmed  by  that  victory,  and  anxious  for 
their  own  safety,  went  over  to  Alexander,  while  the  princes 
of  the  Phoenician  cities  which  he  had  taken  left  the  Persian 
fleet  and  placed  their  vessels  at  his  disposal.     After  some 


414  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

lapse  of  time  lie  was  able  to  appear  before  Tyre  with  a  supe- 
rior navy,  so  that  the  island  city  was  now  exposed  to  ceaseless 
attacks  by  sea  and  land.  It  would  be  well  worth  while,  from 
the  point  of  view  of  military  science,  to  examine  in  detail  the 
attack  and  defence  of  the  city,  the  former  of  which  is  de- 
scribed by  Arrian,  the  latter  by  Diodorus;  but  we  must  pass 
this  by,  for  our  object  is  only  to  take  a  general  view  of  his- 
tory. The  Tyrians  defended  themselves  with  skill  and  hero- 
ism, but  in  their  defence  they  displayed  that  combination  of 
cruelty  and  superstition  which  had  already  shown  itself  in 
earlier  centuries  and  among  other  Semitic  races.  The  Make- 
donians  who  fell  into  their  hands  were  slaughtered  upon  the 
walls  as  offerings  to  Moloch,  and  their  corpses  were  thrown 
into  the  sea,  an  atrocity  which  inflamed  the  Makedonian  army 
with  still  fiercer  resentment  and  thirst  for  vengeance.  Alex- 
ander led  not  only  the  naval  operations,  but  also  those  of  the 
land  force  employed  in  the  siege,  and  appeared  in  person  on 
the  bridge  which  had  been  thrown  from  the  mole  to  the  walls 
of  Tyre.  His  ubiquity  and  insight  were  in  the  highest  degree 
encouraging  to  his  troops. 

After  a  siege  of  seven  months.  Tyre  was  at  last  stormed 
from  the  seaward  side  (July,  332  b.c).  We  are  assured  that, 
among  the  prisoners,  all  the  young  men  capable  of  bearing 
arms,  two  thousand  in  number,  were  hung,  or,  as  has  been 
supposed,  crucified.  Arrian  says  nothing  of  this  hideous 
massacre :  there  can  clearly  have  been  no  report  of  it  in  the 
accounts  which  lay  before  him.  lie  relates,  however,  that 
thirty  thousand  prisoners  were  sold  into  slavery.  The  per- 
sons of  authority  in  the  city,  including  the  king,  together  with 
the  ambassadors  from  Carthage,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
temple  of  Heracles,  were  admitted  by  Alexander  to  favor.  In 
that  temple,  which  the  Tyrians  had  forbidden  liim  to  enter, 
he  now  made  a  solemn  sacrifice  to  Heracles,  who  was  hence- 
forward to  be  regarded  not  simply  as  a  Tyrian,  but  rather  as 
a  Grecian,  god.  The  whole  fleet  and  army  appeared  in  all 
their  splendor  to  celebrate  a  festival  in  honor  of  the  god,  ac- 
companied by  gymnastic  games  and  torchlight  processions. 
Alexander  had  overthrown  the  city  and  its  navy,  and  the  god 
of  Tyre  at  the  same  time.     The  siege  artillery  which  lie  had 


ALEXANDER  IN  EGYPT.  415 

used  against  Tyre  was  now  brought  to  bear  upon  the  ancient 
and  renowned  city  of  Gaza.  That  town  was  at  last  taken  by 
storm.*  Tlie  inliabitants  defended  themselves  till  the  last, 
each  one  in  the  place  where  he  stood.  The  men  all  perished, 
their  wives  and  children  were  sold  as  slaves.  The  city,  how- 
ever, was  repopulated  by  the  neighboring  tribes,  for  Alexan- 
der intended  to  use  it  as  an  arsenal. f 

The  storm  which  burst  upon  the  ancient  friends  and  foes 
of  the  Hebrew  race  was  not  likely  to  leave  Jerusalem  un- 
touched. The  inhabitants  of  that  city  had  only  lately  been 
restored ;  of  its  contact  with  Alexander  there  is  no  contem- 
porary report.  The  account  that  we  possess  is  colored  by 
Levitic  influences,  and  decorated  with  legendary  additions,  but 
it  contains  some  striking  information,  and  therefore  deserves 
notice.  Jerusalem  was  at  this  moment  in  active  feud  with 
the  Persian  satrap  at  Samaria.  The  latter,  paying  no  respect 
to  that  purity  of  race  which  the  inhabitants  strove  to  main- 
tain, had  endeavored  to  set  up  a  new  shrine  upon  Mount 
Gerizim.  It  was  in  accordance  with  the  system  of  Alexander 
to  receive  into  favor  those  w^ho  made  their  submission.  "We 
may  believe  that  he  spared  Jerusalem,  and  permitted  the 
Jews,  like  the  Ionian  Greeks,  to  live  according  to  their  an- 
cient laws.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Alexander  was  now  acknowl- 
edged ruler  in  Palestine,  and  could  set  out  for  Egypt  in  secu- 
rity. 

Hitherto,  every  power  that  forced  its  way  from  the  north 
into  the  land  of  the  Nile  had  only  introduced  some  new  form 
of  subjection.  Alexander,  on  the  contrary,  came  as  a  libera- 
tor. Amyntas,  a  renegade  Makedonian,  had  withdrawn  from 
Cyprus  and  Phoenicia  before  the  events  last  related,  with  a 
portion  of  the  troops  which  had  escaped  from  the  battle  of 
Issus,  and  had  landed  on  the  coast  of  Egypt.  Tliere  he  en- 
deavored to  set  himself  up  as  the  successor  of  the  late  satrap, 
who  had  fallen  at  Issus,  but  he  encountered  a  resistance  from 


*  After  a  siege  of  two  months  (Diodorus,  xvii.  48).  On  the  seventh  day 
after  the  taking  of  Gaza  Alexander  reached  Pelusium  (Arrian,  iii.  1, 1 ; 
Curtius,  iv.  29=7,  2). 

t  It  was  at  this  spot  that  he  first  came  into  contact  with  the  Arabs. 


416  THE  MAKEDONIAN   EMPIRE. 

the  natives  which  ended  in  the  destruction  of  himself  and  all 
his  troops.  The  frequent  efforts  of  the  ancient  country  of 
Egypt  to  recover  its  independence,  which  liad  more  than  once, 
in  the  course  of  ages,  shaken  the  Persian  dominion,  will 
doubtless  be  remembered.  On  the  last  occasion  Egypt  had 
been  reduced  to  subjection  only  by  means  of  Greek  mercena- 
ries in  the  pay  of  Persia.  She  now  saw  herself  invaded  by  a 
king  at  whose  hands  both  Persians  and  mercenaries  had  suf- 
fered defeat.  Such  an  invasion  could  not  fail  to  be  welcomed 
by  tlie  native  authorities.  The  whole  country  submitted  to 
Alexander  as  he  marched  forward  from  Pelusium  to  Mem- 
phis. Far  from  doing  violence  to  the  Egyptian  religion,  he 
infused  into  its  superstitious  rites  a  breath  of  Greek  idealism. 
He  introduced  into  the  festivals  gymnastic  exercises  and 
games  in  honor  of  the  Muses.  While  occupied  in  discharging 
the  duties  of  government  he  returned  to  the  coast  to  meet 
Hegelochus,  the  commander  of  his  fleet  in  the  -^gaean  Sea. 
Hegelochus  was  able  to  inform  him  that  Tenedos  and  Chios, 
which  Memnon  had  wrested  from  Makedonian  rule,  had  been 
reconquered  after  his  death,  which  took  place  before  Myti- 
lene ;  that  Lesbos  had  been  recovered  by  negotiation ;  lastly, 
that  the  inhabitants  of  Cos  had  voluntarily  submitted.  Some 
of  the  banished  leaders  of  the  opposite  party  Hegelochus 
brought  with  him.  Alexander  sent  the  chief  of  them  to  Ele- 
phantine. 

The  possession  of  Egypt  made  Alexander  master  of  the 
-^g9ean  Sea,  or,  rather,  of  the  whole  eastern  basin  of  the  Med- 
iterranean. The  fortunate  coincidence  of  these  events  was 
fittingly  commemorated  by  the  foundation  of  a  new  city, 
whose  circuit  he  is  said  to  have  marked  out  with  his  own 
hand.  The  city  was  planted  on  the  most  suitable  spot,  and 
on  ground  that  had  originally  been  Libyan.  An  architect, 
who  a  short  time  before  had  restored  the  temple  of  Diana  at 
Ephesus,  Deinocrates  by  name,  a  man  of  wide  ideas  and  tech- 
nical skill,  aided  him  in  the  work.  After  the  PeirsBUS  at 
Athens,  this  was  the  first  city  in  the  world  erected  expressly 
for  purposes  of  commerce.  The  streets  crossed  each  other  at 
right  angles,  and  the  larger  of  them  were  double  the  width  of 
the  less  important.    The  city  was  called  Alexandria,  after  its 


ALEXANDER  IN  EGYPT.  417 

founder.  It  was  a  city  admirably  calculated  to  be  the  cen- 
tre of  his  conquests,  so  far  as  they  had  gone,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  it  marked  the  completion  of  the  long  conflict  be- 
tween Egypt,  Phoenicia,  Asia  Minor,  and  Greece.  In  the 
place  of  dependence  on  the  great  empires  of  Asia  appeared 
now  the  combined  influence  of  Greece  and  Makedonia. 

It  might  have  seemed  that  enough  had  now  been  done.  It 
has  been  maintained  that  Alexander  should  have  contented 
liimself  with  consolidating  the  conquered  districts  into  one 
great  empire.  But  had  this  been  possible,  had  ambition  and 
activity  been  able  to  set  themselves  definite  limits,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  connection  between  these  districts  and 
Persia  had  existed  for  nearly  two  centuries,  and  had,  in  spite 
of  all  counteracting  influences,  struck  deep  root.  It  must 
also  be  remembered  that  the  Persian  empire,  though  over- 
powered for  the  moment,  was  by  no  means  reduced  to  impo- 
tence. The  king,  who  regarded  himself  as  Lord  of  the 
World,  must  have  denied  his  own  claims  had  he  been  content 
to  give  up  such  rich  and  extensive  districts  without  further 
contest. 

With  a  view  to  the  solution  of  this  question  Alexander 
visited  the  shrine  of  Amon-Ra,  in  the  oasis  of  Siwah.  This 
oasis  had  been,  since  time  immemorial,  a  station  on  tlie  com- 
mercial route  through  the  desert.  In  it  a  temple  had  been 
founded,  the  oracular  responses  of  which  passed  for  infallible. 
The  temple  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  never  having  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  Persians,  which  secured  for  it  a  greater 
independence  than  belonged  to  that  of  the  Branchidse,  or 
even  that  of  Delphi.  Kimon,  before  the  last  serious  enter- 
prise which  he  undertook,  had  visited  the  god  Amon.  The 
answer  he  received  pointed  to  his  early  death.  A  great  part 
of  the  undertakings  which  Kimon  had  contemplated  had  now 
been  completed  by  Alexander  when  he  paid  a  visit  to  the 
oracle.  Legendary  tradition,  here  unusually  ornate,  makes 
him  overcome  the  diflSculties  that  encumbered  the  way  only 
by  aid  of  ravens  that  flew  before  him,  or  serpents  that  ap- 
peared to  show  the  track.  A  simpler  story,  and  one  in  itself 
of  greater  importance,  is  followed  by  Diodorus.  According 
to  this  story,  the  high-priest,  himself  a  prince,  greeted  Alex- 

27 


418  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

ander  on  his  arrival  in  the  name  of  the  god  as  his  son. 
Alexander  addressed  him  as  father,  and  said  that  he  wonld 
always  regard  himself  as  the  son  of  Amon  if  the  latter  would 
grant  him  the  dominion  of  the  world.  The  priest  retired  into 
the  holy  place,  where  it  was  customary,  after  going  through 
the  proper  rites,  to  consult  the  god,  and  returned  with  the  an- 
swer that  Amon  granted  Alexander's  request,  and  would  hold 
fast  to  his  promise. 

AVhat  this  answer  meant  at  this  particular  moment  is  per- 
fectly clear.  The  Great  King  of  Persia,  with  whom  Alexan- 
der was  at  war,  was  accustomed  in  his  edicts  to  designate 
himself  as  the  lord  of  all  men  on  earth,  from  the  rising  to  the 
setting  of  the  sun.  This  claim,  which  rested  on  the  doctrine 
of  Ormuzd,  was  now  contradicted  by  the  promise  of  Amon- 
Ra,  the  god  of  Egj'pt.  The  sonship,  which  the  god  conferred 
upon  the  king,  had  this  special  importance,  that  it  caused 
Alexander  to  be  looked  on  as  a  successor  of  the  Pharaohs, 
who  had  always  been  regarded  as  holding  that  relation  to  the 
god.  But  it  possessed  still  greater  importance  from  the  fact 
that  the  transference  of  universal  power  to  Alexander  was 
now  promised.  In  the  traditional  account  the  promise  resem- 
bles a  treaty  between  Alexander  and  the  god.  The  priests 
told  him  that  the  proof  of  liis  relationship  to  Amon  would  lie 
in  the  greatness  of  his  deeds  and  attainments  ;*  that  he  should 
be,  and  remain  for  all  time,  invincible.  In  the  oracular  re- 
sponse was  implied,  one  might  almost  say,  an  alliance  between 
the  Grecian  gods,  eager  to  avenge  the  destruction  of  their 
temples  upon  the  Persians,  and  the  Egyptian  Amon-Ra,  who 
now  appeared  again  in  all  his  old  independence  and  all  the 
fulness  of  his  power.  Meanwhile,  Alexander  had  received 
messages  of  reconciliation  from  the  Persian  court.  He  is  said 
to  have  made  answer  that  there  could  not  be  two  suns  in 
heaven.  Two  supreme  authorities  in  the  world  would  have 
been  engaged  in  ceaseless  conflict. 

The  struggle  had  therefore  to  bo  renewed.  Alexander, 
like  Necho  of  old,  directed  his  march  (331  b.c.)  towards  the 

*  Diodorus,  xvii.  61 :  rtKftfiptov  o  lotaQai  r^c  '«  "rov  Btov  ytAvtut^  rb  fti- 
yidoc  ruv  Iv  rate  irp&KKn  KaropBufiaTun'. 


BATTLE  OF  GAUGAMELA.  419 

Euphrates,*  the  passage  of  which  caused  him  more  trouble 
than  the  Persian  armies.  He  did  not,  however,  as  yet  vent- 
ure to  attack  Babylon,  which,  so  long  as  the  Persian  power 
was  not  thoroughly  broken,  would  have  made  the  most  stren- 
uous resistance.  It  was  against  Persia  itself  that  his  attack 
was  directed.  He  passed  the  Tigris  without  meeting  with 
any  opposition,  but  on  the  other  side  of  that  river  Darius 
had  pitched  his  camp.  The  spot  is  one  which  has  always 
been  of  the  greatest  importance  for  the  connection  between 
Eastern  and  Western  Asia,  for  there  the  great  military  routes 
intersect  each  other.  It  was  near  the  village  of  Gaugamela, 
not  far  from  Nineveh.f  In  the  region  where  the  Assyrian 
empire  had  arisen,  and  where  it  had  been  overthrown  by  the 
Medes,  the  Medo-Persian  empire  was  now  to  straggle  for  its 
existence  with  the  forces  of  Greece  and  Makedonia. 

No  collision  of  the  great  forces  of  the  world  possessing 
more  distinctive  features  or  greater  importance  for  the  fate 
of  mankind  has  ever  taken  place.  In  the  camp  of  Darius 
were  united  contingents  from  the  different  nationalities  .of 
east  and  west.  There  were  Cappadocians  and  Armenians; 
there  were  troops  from  Koele-Syria,  Babylonians,  and  Carians 
transplanted  from  their  native  land ;  there  were  Hyrcanian, 
Parthian,  and  Tapyrian  horse ;  there  were  Medes,  Cadusians, 
and  Arachosians,  mounted  archers  from  Bactria  and  Sogdiana, 
and  wild  tribes  from  the  shores  of  the  Persian  Gulf,  A  di- 
vision of  Indian  troops  was  combined  with  the  Bactrians 

*  Alexander  started  from  Memphis  in  the  early  spring  ("  ufia  r^  57^1 
TTpofpaivovTi^^''  Arrian,  iii.  6)  of  the  year  331,  01. 112, 1. 

t  The  statement  of  Strabo  (xvi.  53,  p.  737),  that  the  battle,  the  scene  of 
which  was  generally  fixed  at  Arbela,  took  place  at  Gaugamela,  is  con- 
firmed by  Arrian  (vi.  11,  5)  in  a  supplementary  remark.  But  researches 
that  have  been  made  on  the  spot  make  it  doubtful  whether  the  distances 
are  rightly  given  by  the  latter.  (Comp.  Karl  Ritter,  "  Asien,"  ix.  p.  700.) 
Tlie  battle  took  place  in  the  archonship  of  Aristophanes  (Arrian,  iii.  15),  01. 
112, 2,  on  the  26th  of  Boedromion  (Plutarch, "  Camillus,"  chap.  19,  "  Ukp- 

aai  fiTjvbg  BoTjdpofiiiovog  r)Trr}Ot](Tav  TrtfnrTy  <p9ivovTog  "),  i.  C.  on  Oct.  1,  331  B.C. 
An  eclipse  of  the  moon  had  taken  place  eleven  nights  before,  in  the  night 
of  Sept.  20-21  (Plutarch,  "  Alexander,"  chap.  30).  Comp.  Clinton,  "  Fasti 
Hell."  ii.  pp.  341  sq.,  and  Bockh,  "  Zur  Geschichte  der  Mondcyclen  der 
Hellenen,"  p.  46. 


420  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

under  command  of  Bessus.  AVc  are  informed  that  Darius 
had  improved  the  weapons  of  his  soldiers,  had  repaired  the 
scjthe-chariots,  and  had  taken  measures  to  prevent  the  mis- 
understandings likely  to  arise  among  members  of  so  many 
diverse  nationalities.  But  with  all  this  care  it  was  still  an 
army  of  the  same  kind  as  that  with  which  Xerxes  had  in- 
vaded Greece.  The  Persian  forces,  though  infinitely  more 
numerous  than  the  Grecian  army  at  Chaeroneia,  were  still 
more  heterogeneous  in  composition,  and  were  no  match  for 
the  army  that  Alexander  had  created.  That  army,  proceeding 
on  from  one  victory  to  another,  had  grown  ever  more  com- 
pact, and  was  now  invincible. 

Only  in  one  part  of  the  field  was  victory  for  a  moment 
doubtful.  The  left  wing  of  the  Makedonian  army  was  hard 
pressed  by  the  enemy's  cavalry.  It  was,  however,  saved  by  a 
charge  headed  by  Alexander  in  person.  The  scythe-chariots 
recoiled  from  the  serried  ranks  of  the  phalanx,  which  at  the 
right  moment  took  np  an  impregnable  position.  The  decisive 
combat,  however,  took  place  on  the  right  wing.  Here  Alex- 
ander commanded  in  person,  and,  as  all  our  authorities  agree, 
directed  his  efforts  against  Darius  himself.  We  are  told  that, 
at  the  moment  when  his  attack  was  made,  the  charioteer  of 
Darius  was  slain.  The  people  about  him,  thinking  that  it 
was  Darius  wlio  had  perished,  lost  courage,  took  to  flight,  and 
carried  the  king  along  with  tliem.  Nothing  but  the  personal 
presence  of  the  Great  King  had  kept  the  vast  host  in  order : 
the  report  of  his  death  produced  general  confusion.  The 
Oriental  method  of  warfare,  in  which  different  nationalities 
fought  each  under  leaders  of  its  own,  proved  as  incapable  of 
resistance  when  met  by  the  battle-array  of  the  Groeco-Make- 
donian  army  as  the  empire  which  it  represented. 

The  victory  won,  Alexander  turned  to  Babylon.  Here  he 
might  well  have  expected  to  meet  with  opposition,  for  the 
citadel  was  garrisoned  by  Persian  troops,  and  one  of  the  Per- 
sian commanders  liad  fled  thither  from  the  battlefield.  Alex- 
ander marched  up  to  the  walls  of  Babylon  in  order  of  battle, 
with  his  troops  fully  prepared  for  action.  To  take  the  place 
by  siege  would  have  proved  no  easy  task,  even  for  troops  who 
had  proved  invincible  in  the  open  field.    Bnt  the  results  of 


ALEXANDER  AT  BABYLON.  421 

the  defeat  at  Gaugamela  were  like  those  of  the  defeat  at 
Issus.  The  Persians  had  lost  all  confidence  in  their  cause, 
and  were  a  prey  to  internal  disunion.  The  Persian  general 
and  the  commandant  of  the  citadel  rivalled  each  other  in 
their  eagerness  to  do  homage  to  the  victor,  and  the  inhabit- 
ants followed  their  example.  Alexander  was  conducted  into 
the  city  in  a  sort  of  solemn  procession.  Here  he  maintained 
the  attitude  for  which  he  always  showed  a  predilection.  In 
the  first  place  he  restored  the  local  religion.  The  temples, 
which  he  was  informed  had  been  destroyed  by  Xerxes  on  his 
return  from  Greece,  were  rebuilt  at  Alexander's  command. 
The  ChaldaBans  obtained  from  him  all  that  they  asked,  though 
in  so  doing  they  sacrificed  their  own  advantage,  for  the  in- 
come which  they  had  derived  from  the  lands  consecrated  for 
religions  uses  was  now  restored  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
temples.  Alexander  offered  a  sacrifice  in  the  temple  of  Bel 
at  Babel.  It  was  of  immeasurable  importance  that  the  me- 
tropolis of  Baal-worship,  whence  one  of  the  great  religions  of 
the  world,  as  well  as  the  culture  connected  with  that  religion, 
had  gone  forth  to  influence  the  West,  was  now  again,  like  the 
religion  and  culture  of  Egypt,  brought  into  connection  with 
Europe  by  the  superiority  of  Western  arms. 

This  success  could,  however,  not  be  considered  secure,  so 
long  as  the  great  capitals,  which  formed  the  seat  of  empire, 
remained  in  hostile  hands.  Susa  surrendered  first,  at  the 
summons  of  one  of  Alexander's  lieutenants,  without  any  re- 
sistance. In  Susa  the  Great  King's  treasure,  which  amounted 
to  about  50,000  talents  in  uncoined  gold  and  silver,  fell  into 
the  conqueror's  hands.*  Alexander  applied  a  part  of  the 
money,  after  Persian  fashion,  to  stirring  up  hostility  against 
the  Lakedsemonians,  who  continued  to  oppose  him  in  Pelo- 
ponnesus. From  Susa  he  made  his  way  by  the  ancient  roj^d 
road  to  Persepolis,  not  however,  without  some  difficulty, 
partly  due  to  the  character  of  the  country,  and  partly  to  the 


*  Diodorus  (xvii.  G6)  reckons  the  treasure  at  40,000  talents  of  uncoined 
gold  and  silver,  and  9000  gold  Darics ;  Arrian  (iii.  16, 7)  fixes  it  at  50,000 
talents  of  silver  in  all;  Curtius  (v.  8  =  5,  5)  gives  the  same  amount,  with 
the  additional  remark,'' Argenti  non  signati  forma,  sed  rudi  pondere." 


422  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

insubordination  of  the  tribes  along  the  route,  who  had  never 
been  thoroughly  subdued  by  Persia.  We  are  told,  but  on 
questionable  authority,  that  he  came  at  the  invitation  of  a 
native  commander.  Darius  had  taken  refuge  in  the  most 
distant  portion  of  his  empire,  and  it  almost  appears  as  if  his 
defeat  were  regarded  as  the  judgment  of  God.  Such  invita- 
tions were  not,  howcv^er,  likely  to  win  much  consideration 
from  Alexander.  It  was  in  accordance  with  the  circle  of 
ideas  in  which  he  lived  that  he  dealt  harshly  with  a  city  in 
which  the  plunder  of  the  whole  world  was  gathered  up,  and 
in  whose  neighborhood  he  was  met  by  prisoners  of  Greek 
extraction  in  miserable  plight.*  His  entry  into  the  city  was 
accompanied  by  deeds  of  violence,  by  massacres  of  the  inhab- 
itants, and  by  wholesale  pillage. 

It  was  probably  in  the  same  spirit  that  he  set  fire  to  the 
citadel  which  he  had  at  first  intended  to  spare,  in  the  orgies 
of  a  Dionysiac  festival,  as  though  he  wished  to  avenge  the 
Greek  gods  upon  the  Persians.  The  chambers  of  state,  lined 
with  cedar  wood,  in  which  the  Persian  monarchs  used  to  re- 
side close  by  their  sepulchres,  disappeared  in  smoke  and  flame. 
It  seemed  to  the  spectators  to  consummate  a  decree  of  fate, 
when  the  Athenian  Thais,  one  of  the  singing  and  dancing 
women  who  had  been  summoned  to  attend  the  feast  of  Diony- 
sus, bore  a  torch  at  the  king's  side  at  the  head  of  the  proces- 
sion. "What  the  Persians  had  done  to  the  Acropolis  of  Athens 
was  now  to  be  avenged  on  the  royal  palace  of  Persepolis. 
This  event,  in  which  Alexander's  expedition  seemed  to  reach 
its  final  aim,  was  closely  connected  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
which  he  had  to  encounter  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life. 
At  Persepolis  there  were  no  altars  of  the  gods  to  overthrow, 
nor  any  ruined  temples  to  restore:  there  was  no  subject  pop- 
ulation to  whom  their  lost  shrines  could  be  given  back.  On 
the  contrary,  Alexander  came  into  contact  here  with  a  native 
religion  of  immemorial  antiquity  and  hereditary  power.  In 
the  monuments  of  Persepolis  this  religion  found  its  expres- 

*  The  number  of  these  mutilated  prisoners  is  reckoned  by  Diodorus 
(xvii.  60)  and  by  Justin  (xi.  14, 11)  at  800,  by  Curtius  (v.  17  =  5,5)  at 
4000.    Arrian  makes  no  mention  of  them  at  all. 


ALEXANDEU  AT  PERSEPOLIS.  423 

sion.  It  could  not  be  annihilated  by  the  destruction  of  those 
monuments,  for  it  had  a  political  side  as  well,  based  upon  the 
very  nature  of  the  empire. 

With  this  religion  Alexander  had  now  to  come  to  terms. 
Having  defeated  and  expelled  the  Great  King,  he  was  now 
regarded  by  those  who  submitted  to  him  as  his  successor  in 
the  kingdom.  The  veneration,  akin  to  worship,  which  had 
been  felt  for  the  kings  in  their  character  of  vicegerents  of 
divine  authority,  was  now  transferred  to  their  conqueror.  In 
the  ideas  on  which  this  veneration  rested  lay  the  moral  force 
which  held  together  the  subject- nations  and  gave  solidity  to 
the  empire.  Was  Alexander  to  reject  this  veneration  ?  Had 
he  done  so  he  would  have  weakened  the  supreme  authority 
he  had  won,  and  would  have  made  the  extension  of  it  over 
the  regions  still  unconquered  impossible.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  accepted  it,  as  he  actually  did,  he  deserted  the  line 
of  action  which  he  had  hitherto  followed.  After  destroying 
every  institution,  religious  and  political,  which  had  been  es- 
tablished in  consequence  of  the  Persian  dominion,  he  was  not 
only  led  by  personal  inclination,  but  perhaps  compelled  by 
political  necessities,  to  yield  his  allegiance  to  the  ideas  on 
which  that  dominion  had  been  based. 

The  question  was,  however,  whether  he  could  adopt  the 
despotic  system  of  the  East,  and  yet  remain  a  king  after  the 
Western  model.  Could  he,  in  short,  be  at  once  Greek  and 
Persian?  In  his  immediate  following  the  difference  soon 
became  apparent.  It  pleased  Alexander  to  appear  in  the 
tiara  and  robes  of  the  Persian  kings,  but  neither  his  own 
Makedonians  nor  the  Greeks  who  accompanied  him  were 
likely  to  take  delight  in  aping  Persian  habits.  The  Make- 
donian  kings,  although  supposed  to  be  of  heroic  origin,  had 
never  ruled  absolutely,  but  always  in  accordance  with  Make- 
donian  law  and  custom.  The  army  which  King  Philip  had 
collected  round  him  preserved  a  sort  of  internal  independence, 
natural  to  a  body  of  professional  soldiers.  In  the  same  spirit 
the  Greeks  had  followed  the  youthful  Alexander.  They  de- 
served as  well  at  his  hands  as  he  at  theirs.  A  verse  of  Eurip- 
ides was  at  this  conjuncture  often  called  to  mind,  in  which 
the  poet  complains  that  the  credit  of  a  successful  enterprise 


424:  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

falls  to  the  sliarc  of  the  leader,  and  not  to  that  of  the  troops, 
to  whom  the  success  was  due.  This  sentiment  is  directly 
opposed  to  tlie  demand  now  put  forward,  that  the  king's  ser- 
vants should  approach  him  witli  signs  of  homage  resembling 
those  with  which  the  Greeks  used  to  approach  their  gods. 
The  absolute  power  claimed  by  Alexander  was  identical  with 
that  against  which  war  had  been  carried  on  for  more  than  a 
century  past.  That  power  had  been  broken  by  defeat,  but  it 
seemed  that  it  was  now  again  to  triumph,  when  assumed  by 
the  prince  who  had  defeated  it.  The  smouldering  discontent 
caused  by  reflections  of  this  nature  soon  found  expression. 
In  the  midst  of  a  banquet,  in  which  the  king,  who  drank  out 
of  a  golden  cup,  had  invited  the  chief  oflicial  present  to  take 
part,  he  was  honored  by  the  Persians,  after  their  fashion, 
with  genuflexions,  to  which  he  responded  with  a  kiss.  A 
Greek  who  was  present  demanded  the  kiss,  without,  however, 
performing  his  part  of  the  ceremony.  The  king  refused  the 
honor.  "  Well,  I  am  poorer  by  a  kiss,"  was  the  satirical  re- 
mark of  the  Greek,  as  he  sullenly  retired. 

From  this  difference  of  feeling  arose  all  those  scenes  which 
darkened  the  later  years  of  Alexander.  Even  his  nearest 
friends  resented  the  idea  of  this  Oriental  servility.  The  nat- 
ure of  the  conspiracy  in  which  Alexander's  confidant,  Par- 
menio,  as  well  as  his  son  Philotas,  are  said  to  have  been  in- 
volved, has  never  been  exactly  known.  But  that  there  was 
such  a  conspiracy  cannot  be  denied.  The  Makedonians  them- 
selves, who  were  summoned  to  a  sort  of  court-martial,  recog- 
nized the  guilt  of  the  conspirators,  and  punished  it  without 
hesitation.  Some  of  the  young  men  who  attended  the  court 
of  Alexander,  as  they  liad  that  of  Philip,  for  the  purpose  of 
doing  personal  service  to  the  king,  at  one  time  formed  a  plot 
to  get  rid  of  him  by  assassination.  The  night-watch  which 
they  themselves  kept  round  the  king  gave  them  an  opportu- 
nity of  carrying  their  plan  into  execution.  Ilis  life  was  saved 
by  a  Syrian  woman  who  followed  the  camp.  She  had  at  first 
been  driven  away,  but  afterwards,  in  consequence  of  the  su- 
pernatural influence  under  which  she  appeared  to  lie,  had  been 
received  into  confidence.  She  appealed  to  Alexander,  with 
all  the  vehemence  of  which  she  was  capable,  to  continue  bis 


DEATH  OF  DARIUS.  425 

drunken  orgies  beyond  the  time  which  was  fixed  by  the  con- 
spirators for  his  death.  He  was  thus  pei'suaded  to  remain 
away  from  the  night -quarters  where  he  was  to  have  been 
murdered. 

Among  these  misunderstandings  must  be  reckoned  the  in- 
cident which  led  to  the  death  of  Cleitus.  His  sister  had  been 
the  king's  nurse,  and  Cleitus  had  saved  him  on  the  banks  of 
the  Graneicus  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  but  the  manner  in 
which  he  presumed  upon  this  service  was  intolerable  to  the 
king.  On  one  occasion  he  insulted  Alexander  at  a  feast  with 
some  spiteful  remark,  the  exact  nature  of  which  does  not  tran- 
spire. Alexander  sprang  to  his  feet  in  a  towering  rage.  Cle- 
itus retired ;  but  soon  after,  inflamed  with  wine  and  passion, 
again  approached  the  king,  whereupon  Alexander,  in  a  fit  of 
drunken  anger,  stabbed  him  with  his  own  hand.  The  deed 
was  hardly  done  when  he  was  seized  with  the  bitterest  re- 
morse. He  shut  himself  up  for  several  days,  and  was  heard 
sobbing  and  accusing  himself,  but  the  horrid  deed  could  not 
be  undone. 

It  is  useless  to  attempt  to  justify  the  action  of  Cleitus,  still 
less  that  of  the  king.  The  incident  was  a  symptom  of  the 
opposition  between  Greek  and  Persian  ideas.  The  leaning 
towards  a  royal  prerogative,  in  accordance  with  Persian  no- 
tions, which  Alexander  manifested,  was  strengthened  by  the 
submissiveness  which  he  met  with  on  all  sides.  He  began 
to  treat  his  soldier-comrades  as  mere  subjects,  while  the  latter 
felt  themselves  to  be  his  equals.  This  revolution  in  ideas  is 
strikingly  brought  out  by  the  fact  that  Alexander  now  repre- 
sented himself  not  only  as  the  successor  of  the  Great  King, 
but  as  his  avenger.  Darius  had  been  murdered  on  his  flight 
through  Bactria  by  Bessus,  the  satrap  of  that  province  (July 
3,  330  B.C.).  Alexander  marched  into  Bactria  against  Bessus, 
overpowered  him,  and  took  him  prisoner.  Bessus  attempted 
to  defend  himself  with  the  plea  that  he  had  assumed  the  title 
of  king  only  to  prevent  others  from  anticipating  him  in  his  plan, 
which  was  to  bring  the  people  over  to  submit  to  Alexander. 
But  this  excuse  made  no  impression  on  the  latter.  He 
handed  over  Bessus  to  the  Modes  and  Persians  for  punish- 
ment.    Through  the  issue  of  his  battles  and  the  occupation 


426  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

of  Persepolis  Alexander  believed  himself  to  have  become  the 
legitimate  monarch  of  the  Persian  empire.  He  considered 
it  his  duty  to  punish  a  crime  perpetrated  on  the  person  of 
the  Great  King,  although  the  latter  had  been  his  enemy. 

In  these  Persian  views  ho  persisted  henceforward.  To  his 
Greek  generals  he  once  remarked  that  he  w^ould  not  let  him- 
self be  treated  by  them  as  Darius  was  by  Bessns.  In  these 
difficulties  we  recognize  a  question  which  has  been  asked  in 
every  age,  the  question  how  the  veneration  which  every  one 
must  feel  towards  his  native  sovereign  is  to  be  reconciled 
with  individual  freedom  ?  It  becomes  pressing  when  a  prince, 
of  hitherto  limited  authority,  rises  to  the  majesty  of  the  first 
throne  of  the  world,  and  his  lieutenants  seek  to  maintain,  in 
their  relations  with  him,  the  old  position  which  left  them  a 
certain  amount  of  independence. 

The  conflict  to  which  we  have  alluded  was  as  yet  only  be- 
gun, and  Alexander  was  not  fated  to  bring  it  to  an  end.  But 
the  later  events  of  his  life,  events  of  a  splendid  and  memora- 
ble kind,  had  an  important  influence  on  the  development  of 
civilization,  derived  from  the  direction  which  was  now  taken 
by  the  Makedonian  arms.  The  Makedonians  were  led  further 
by  the  necessity  of  following  up  the  victory  which  they  had 
won.  In  the  battle  of  Gaugamela,  the  Arachosians,  tlie  tribes 
of  Sogdiana,  and  the  Indians  had  taken  part.  Alexander 
turned  his  arms  first  towards  the  north.  After  meeting  with 
hinderances  due  rather  to  the  nature  of  the  country  than  to 
the  resistance  of  the  inhabitants,  he  reached  the  most  distant 
regions  of  the  Persian  empire,  Sogdiana  and  the  Jaxartes. 
Alexander  crossed  that  great  river,  but  the  inhabitants  of  the 
steppe,  before  whom  the  Persians  had  once  had  to  retreat, 
opposed  his  further  progress  with  an  obstinacy  which  he  did 
not  feel  himself  called  upon  to  break.  While  at  Bactria  it 
was  suggested  to  him  that  he  should  turn  his  arms  towards 
the  west.  To  this  proposal  he  turned  a  deaf  ear,  for  his 
thoughts  were  directed  towards  India. 

Vague  rumors  about  India  had  been  conveyed  to  Greece 
from  time  immemorial,  and  their  fabulous  nature  left  free 
room  for  the  imagination.  India  was  the  scene  of  a  large 
portion  of  Greek  mythology.    It  was  in  India  that  Prome- 


INVASION  OF  INDIA.  427 

tlieus  was  said  to  have  been  chained  to  the  rock.  Heracles 
and  Dionysus,  the  two  heroes  who  won  an  entry  to  Olympus 
by  the  greatness  of  their  deeds,  were  supposed  to  have  reached 
India  in  the  course  of  their  wanderings.  Alexander  himself 
claimed  to  be  descended  from  Heracles,  and  we  know  that, 
even  while  in  the  East,  he  worshipped  Dionysus  with  tumul- 
tuous orgies.  It  may  fairly  be  assumed  that  mythological 
impulses  of  this  kind  had  their  effect  upon  Alexander,  but 
his  warlike  ardor  was  chiefly  produced  by  a  very  intelligible 
ambition  arising  from  the  dominant  position  which  he  now 
occupied. 

A  year  before  he  had  penetrated  into  the  mountainous 
country  of  the  Paropameisus  (Hindoo-Koosh),  which  belonged 
to  one  of  the  satrapies  of  the  Persian  empire.  He  had  at 
that  time  made  a  footing  for  himself  oii  the  Indian  Caucasus, 
and  had  founded  one  of  those  cities  which  were  intended  to 
serve  as  strongholds  for  the  maintenance  of  his  power  and  for 
the  furtherance  of  civilization.  At  a  point  where  three  roads 
to  Bactria  joined,  he  erected  a  fortress  which  he  called  by  his 
own  name.  This  fortress  he  provided  with  a  garrison  suffi- 
ciently strong  to  prevent  any  immediate  communication  be- 
tween India  and  Bactria.  Meanwhile  he  had  himself  opened 
relations  with  India.  The  connection  with  that  country  be- 
gan through  a  prince  named  Sisicottus,*  who  undoubtedly 
ruled  over  part  of  India.  This  prince  had  belonged  to  the 
party  of  Bessus,  but,  after  the  defeat  of  the  latter,  deserted 
him  and  went  over  to  Alexander.  Alexander  was  also  ap- 
proached by  the  Indian  Prince  Mophis,  or  Omphis,the  son  of 
Taxiles,  who,  being  in  difficulties  with  his  neighbors,  proposed 
to  the  king  that  the  latter  should  recognize  his  claims,  after 
which  they  were  to  make  joint  war  upon  their  common  ene- 
mies.f  Thus  the  threads  of  Alexander's  policy  reached  from 
Bactria  directly  to  the  Indus. 

When  Alexander  set  out  on  his  expedition  to  India  (b.c. 
327),  he  appeared  no  longer  merely  as  the  commander  of 


*  The  spelling  of  the  name,  which  occurs  elsewhere  in  Arrian,  is  not 
uniform  in  that  author.     Curtius  (viii.  14=11,  35).  gives  it  as  Sisocostus. 
t  In  Curtius  (viii.  42=12, 4)  the  son  of  Taxiles  is  called  Omphis. 


428  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

Greeks  and  Makedonians.  Besides  these  he  had  Bactrians, 
Sogdianians,  and  Arachosians  in  his  army.  To  the  different 
Eastern  nations  he  appeared  as  a  new  Great  King.  How 
closely  his  position  was  in  accordance  with  the  ideas  of  the 
Persian  empire  may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  the  new 
satrap  whom  Alexander  set  up  in  the  district  of  the  Paropa- 
meisiis  was,  if  we  may  judge  from  his  name,  a  Persian.  The 
first  enemy  attacked  by  the  Makedonians  was  an  opponent 
of  Taxiles,  with  whom  Sangasus,  the  ruler  of  Peukelaotis,  had 
taken  refuge.  Their  common  enemy,  Astes  by  name,  was 
overpowered  and  slain  by  Hephsestion.  This  victory  opened 
the  way  to  the  Indus. 

Meanwhile  Alexander  was  engaged  with  the  mountain 
tribes  lying  to  the  north  of  the  Cophen  (Cabul  Biver).  These 
races  were  no  longer  in  a  primitive  condition.  They  had 
fought  for  their  existence  with  Medes  and  Persians,  they 
possessed  walled  cities,  and  could  bring  numerous  armies  into 
the  field.  They  even  introduced  mercenary  troops  from  In- 
dia. Alexander  attacked  them  with  the  developed  military 
science  of  the  Greeks  and  Makedonians,  who  were  still,  as  be- 
fore, the  nucleus  of  his  army.  The  enemy  were  never  able 
to  hold  their  ground  against  the  phalanx,  which,  upon  their 
approach,  was  in  the  habit  of  retreating  for  a  space,  then 
suddenly  wheeling  and  attacking  in  close  battle  array.  The 
art  of  siege  was  also  far  more  developed  among  the  Greeks 
than  among  the  Persians.  Their  battering-rams  broke  down 
the  walls,  the  breaches  were  then  bridged  over  and  the  bat- 
tlements were  cleared  of  their  defendei's  by  the  catapults, 
with  which  the  moving  towers  were  provided.  The  captured 
cities  were  levelled  with  the  ground :  others  were  set  on  firo 
by  the  inhabitants  and  then  deserted.  The  Makedonians 
generally  pursued  and  caught  those  who  tried  to  make  their 
escape,  and  on  one  occasion  they  took  40,000  prisoners  at 
once. 

But  superiority  in  open  war  was  not  the  only  means  by 
which  Alexander  made  his  way.  In  the  town  of  Massaga, 
which  for  some  time  made  a  stout  resistance,  an  unexpected 
event  occurred.  The  mercenaries  within  the  city  made  a 
treaty  with  Alexander,  providing  that  they  should  enter  his 


INVASION  OF  INDIA.  429 

service.  E'ot  long  afterwards,  however,  it  appears  that  they 
repented  of  their  promise,  or  else  that  the  securities  they  de- 
manded were  not  given  them  ;^*  at  any  rate,  no  sooner  had 
they  left  the  city  than  a  fight  took  place  between  them  and 
the  Makedonians.  The  superior  weapons  of  the  latter  again 
secured  them  the  victory.  We  are  .told  that  the  arrows  of 
the  Thracian  archers  split  the  shields  borne  by  the  Indian 
troops,  and  so  allowed  the  Makedonian  pikes  to  produce  their 
full  effect.  The  women  took  part  in  the  struggle.  The 
mercenaries  defended  themselves  with  great  courage,  and 
were  all  slain.  After  this  the  city  could  no  longer  hold  out, 
and  fell  into  Alexander's  hands. 

Thereupon  the  whole  nation  was  seized  with  terror.  On 
all  sides  they  took  refuge  in  their  mountain  fortresses.  The 
siege  of  one  of  these,  called  Aornus,  has  become  famous  chiefly 
owing  to  the  excellent  description  given  by  Arrian,  who,  no 
doubt,  drew  his  information  from  Ptolemaeus  the  son  of  La- 
gus.  The  conquest  of  this  town  would  have  been  impossible 
had  not  some  natives  betrayed  to  the  king  a  path  which  led 
to  the  fortified  heights.  The  well-planned  and  successful  at- 
tacks upon  these  fortifications  soon  convinced  the  besieged  of 
their  inability  to  hold  out.  They  begged  to  be  allowed  a  free 
retreat,  but  Alexander  preferred  to  give  them  an  opportunity 
of  making  their  escape.  When  they  attempted  this,  the  king's 
troops  succeeded  in  climbing  to  the  summit  of  the  ridge  sur- 
rounding the  town,  whence  they  were  able  to  attack  and 
massacre  the  flying  population.  If  Alexander  treated  with 
magnanimity  the  nations  and  princes  who  submitted  to  him, 
he  exercised  the  most  ruthless  severity  against  all  who  made 
any  resistance.  The  capture  of  Aornus  was  of  incalculable 
advantage,  since  it  commanded  the  valley  of  the  Cophen  and 
the  Upper  Indus.  The  fortifications  of  the  place  w^ere  re- 
paired and  enlarged,  and  the  command  of  it  was  intrusted  to 
the  Indian  prince  who  had  made  an  alliance  with  Alexander 
in  Bactria. 

*  The  first  explanation  is  that  of  Arrian,  the  second  that  of  Diodorus 
(xvii.  84),  in  whose  narrative  sympathy  with  the  conquered  is  very  ap- 
parent. 


430  'J^'HE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

Ilephcestion  had  already  preceded  the  king  on  the  road  to 
India.  By  means  of  a  bridge  of  boats,  which  the  former  had 
thrown  over  the  Indus,  probably  to  the  north  of  the  spot  where 
it  is  joined  by  the  Cophen,  Alexander  crossed  the  stream. 
In  this  district  he  enjoyed  his  first  experience  of  elephant- 
hunting.  Mophis,  who,  .later  on,  appears  under  the  name  of 
Taxiles,  acknowledged  him  as  his  suzerain.*  The  story  tells 
us  of  Indian  fanatics  who  inflicted  penance  on  themselves, 
and  of  women  burned  on  their  husbands'  funeral  pyres:  it 
brings  us,  in  fact,  into  the  heart  of  India.  For  a  moment 
it  appeared  doubtful  wliether  Taxiles  and  his  people  would 
oppose  Alexander,  but  they  kept  their  word  and  joined  his 
arm3^  Alexander  enlarged  the  dominions  of  that  prince,  but 
at  the  same  time  placed  a  garrison  in  his  capital  and  ap- 
pointed a  Greek  named  Philip  as  satrap  over  tlie  country. 

Thus  the  plan  which  had  been  conceived  at  Bactria  was 
thoroughly  carried  out.  After  a  hard  struggle  with  the 
mountain  tribes,  there  followed  the  subjection  of  an  Indian 
kingdom,  and  the  junction  of  its  forces  with  the  Makedonians. 
It  was  Alexander's  intention  to  compel  the  neighboring 
Indian  principalities,  both  small  and  great,  to  submit  in  like 
manner.  A  champion  of  their  independence  appeared  in 
Porus,  whose  territory  bordered  on  the  districts  already  con- 
quered. Of  Porus  we  find  traces  in  Indian  tradition,  which 
speaks  of  a  kingdom  called  Paura,  in  this  neighborhood. 
Porus  rejected  every  invitation  to  recognize  Alexander  as  his 
suzerain.  In  order  to  conquer  him,  the  Ilydaspes  (Jhelum) 
had  to  be  crossed.  Porus  brought  more  than  a  hundred  ele- 
phants into  the  field.  In  liis  line  of  battle,  these  colossal  ani- 
mals appeared  like  so  many  towers,  and  the  troops  between 
them  like  a  connecting  wall.  Alexander  managed  to  distract 
his  attention  and  then  to  defeat  him  by  a  feint  (July,  326  b.c). 
Leaving  a  portion  of  his  army  under  Craterus  in  the  camp, 
ho  succeeded  in  crossing  the  river  witli  the  rest  by  means  of 

*  In  Curtius  (viii.  48  =  12, 14)  Taxiles  appears  to  be  the  regular  title 
of  the  occupier  of  the  throne :  "  Omphis  permittcnte  Alcxandro  ct  rcgium 
insigne  sumpsit  ct  more  gcntis  sucb  nomcn,  quod  patris  fucrat,  Taxiles 
appcllavcrc  popularcs,  scquente  nomine  impcrium  in  qucmcunquo  tran- 
siret." 


DEFEAT  OF  PORUS.  431 

a  couple  of  islands  which  facilitated  the  passage.  This  done, 
Craterus  also  crossed,  and  Porus,  after  an  obstinate  struggle, 
was  overpowered.  In  this  battle  the  mounted  archers  proved 
themselves  most  efficient  against  the  troops  of  Porus,  but 
what  was  really  new,  and  at  the  same  time  important,  as  de- 
termining the  relations  between  the  forces  of  the  great  powers 
of  the  world,  was  the  conflict  between  the  phalanx  and  the 
elephants.  The  former  could  not  win  the  victory  until  the 
latter,  driven  into  a  narrow  space,  became  terrified  and  threw 
their  riders.  Porus  distinguished  himself  by  personal  brav- 
ery. When  at  length  he  was  brought  before  Alexander,  his 
tall,  handsome,  and  manly  figure  called  forth  universal  ad- 
miration. He  appealed  to  Alexander,  as  he  was  a  king  him- 
self, to  treat  him  as  a  king.  Alexander  enlarged  his  domin- 
ions, and  made  alliance  with  him — that  is  to  say,  Porus  rec- 
ognized Alexander  as  suzerain.  At  the  points  where  the  Ily- 
daspes  was  crossed  two  cities  named  Bukephalia  and  Niksea 
were  built.  The  king  himself  marched  along  the  Ilydaspes 
for  some  distance  up  the  stream,  in  order  to  hinder  the  chief- 
tains of  the  tribes  who  dwelt  on  the  spurs  of  the  Himalayas 
from  active  interference. 

A  great  object  had  now  been  attained.  The  dominion  of 
the  Great  King  in  India,  which  Alexander  had  taken  over 
from  the  Persians,  had  not  only  been  revived,  but  extended 
beyond  its  former  limits.  But  the  ambition  of  Alexander 
was  not  satisfied  with  this,  nor,  we  may  say,  was  his  mission 
in  the  history  of  the  world  fulfilled.  Before  him  lay  the 
East,  hitherto  hardly  touched  by  Persia.  Of  its  vast  extent, 
and  its  endless  variety,  no  one,  as  yet,  had  any  clear  idea. 
Alexander  appeared,  by  the  course  and  direction  of  his  march, 
to  be  destined  to  explore  it.  He  had  resolved  to  cross  the 
Ilyphasis  (Sutlej),  the  fourth  of  the  five  streams  which  trav- 
erse the  Punjab.  He  was  told  that  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river  he  would  find  nations  of  more  advanced  civilization,  and 
at  the  same  time  very  warlike.*  He  was  eager  to  visit  these 
nations  and  plunge  into  a  new  conflict. 

*  It  was  the  kingdom  of  the  Prasii,  of  which  Alexander  heard.  Its 
king  appears  in  the  Indian  tradition  under  the  name  Nanda  (in  Justin, 


432  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

Bat  not  even  the  greatest  commander  is  omnipotent ;  even 
such  a  one  as  Alexander  is  dependent  on  the  good-will  of  the 
troops  he  leads.  He  now  found  himself  in  opposition  to  his 
army,  which,  disgusted  by  the  nature  of  the  climate  which 
Lad  lately  been  experienced,  was  appalled  at  the  idea  of  press- 
ing on  still  farther  into  an  nnknown  world.  Alexander,  in 
consequence  of  this,  determined  to  give  up  his  intention. 
Such,  at  least,  is  the  story,  which,  on  the  whole,  cannot  be 
doubted.  But,  if  we  review  the  condition  of  the  world  at  this 
time,  w^e  shall  see  that  Alexander,  though  he  crossed  the 
frontier  of  India,  was  not  called  upon  to  traverse  that  coun- 
tr}^,  and  to  discover  the  eastern  half  of  the  continent  which, 
for  long  ages  to  come,  was  not  drawn  into  the  circle  of  uni- 
versal history.  While  giving  up  this  project,  he  embraced 
another  which  lay  nearer  to  his  hand,  a  project  which,  while 
closely  connected  with  the  past,  led  directly  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  future.  His  aim  was  to  establish  a  maritime 
connection  between  the  valley  of  the  Indus  and  the  western 
world.  Darius  Hystaspis  had  long  before  cherished  the  same 
intention.  Herodotus  tells  us  that,  wishing  to  discover  the 
mouth  of  the  Indus,  he  sent  a  squadron,  under  command  of 
a  Greek  named  Scylax,  down  the  stream  from  Caryanda. 
These  vessels  completed  their  voyage  down  the  Indus,  and 
thence  made  their  way  to  the  Bed  Sea.  The  voyage  had  at 
the  time  no  further  results,  but  rumors  of  it,  preserved  by 
Ctesias,  according  to  whom  the  Indus  flows  into  the  great  sea 
which  surrounds  the  Eastern  world,  made  a  deep  impression 
on  the  Greeks,  especially  because  it  seemed  to  confirm  their 
ideas  about  the  earth.  The  zeal  for  geographical  discovery, 
by  which  Alexander  was  animated  beyond  any  of  his  contem- 
poraries, was  fired  by  the  prospect.  It  was  a  great  concep- 
tion, equally  important  from  the  political  and  scientific  points 
of  view,  to  bring  his  new  conquests  in  India  into  maritime 
connection  with  the  principal  cities  of  the  empire  which  had 
fallen  into  his  hands. 

Alexander  set  about  this  undertaking  in  full  conscionsness 

XV.  4, 6,  it  is  spelled  Nandra).    See  Lassen, "  Indischo  Alterthumskunde," 
ii.  200. 


VOYAGE  DOWN  THE  INDUS.  433 

of  the  aim  which  he  had  in  view,  and  with  indefatigable  en- 
ergy and  caution.  While  sailing  down  the  Indus  he  was 
obliged  to  subdue  the  independent  peoples  on  either  bank  so 
far  as  to  prevent  them  from  imperilling  the  existence  of  the 
settlements  and  fortresses  which  he  erected.  On  these  occa- 
sions he  more  than  once  encountered  serious  personal  danger. 
Nothing  in  ancient  history  was  more  famous  than  his  attack 
on  the  principal  stronghold  of  the  Malli.  On  this  occasion  he 
led  the  storming  party  in  person,  and,  when  a  ladder  gave 
way  behind  him,  sprang  down  into  the  city,  and,  with  his  back 
against  a  tree,  withstood  all  the  attacks  of  the  inhabitants, 
until  relieved  by  his  followers.  This  time,  however,  he  w^as 
so  severely  wounded  tliat  the  progress  of  his  expedition  was 
stopped  for  some  months. 

The  national  resistance  which  he  met  with  in  India  was 
heightened  by  religious  animosity.  The  Brahmins  everywhere 
stirred  up  the  native  population  and  their  princes  against  the 
Greeks  and  Makedonians.  It  was  inevitable  that  the  religious 
views  of  India,  and  their  ancestral  traditions,  as  represented 
by  the  priestly  caste,  should  call  forth  the  bitterest  hostility 
against  the  Greek  religion,  now  forcing  its  way  into  their 
domain.  It  was  almost  a  religious  war  which  Alexander  had 
to  fight.  He  attacked  the  Brahmins  in  their  own  cities,  one 
of  w^hich  he  entirely  destroyed.  When  he  reached  Pattala, 
where  he  hoped  to  find  a  favorable  reception,  the  place  itself 
and  the  surrounding  district  w^ere  deserted  by  the  inhabitants, 
and  it  was  only  with  great  difficulty  that  he  induced  a  sufii- 
cient  number  of  them  to  return.  This  town  was  situated  in 
the  region  where  the  delta  of  the  Indus  begins.  Alexander 
felt  himself  so  sure  of  holding  the  positions  which  he  had  oc- 
cupied at  the  most  important  points,  that  he  undertook  to 
complete  them  by  erecting  a  town  on  this  spot.  At  his  com- 
mand wells  were  dug,  and  dockyards  laid  out,  in  order 
to  establish  an  emporium  for  the  trade  of  the  world,  which 
-was  to  bear  the  name  of  Alexandria.  All  these  operations  he 
conducted  in  person.  Neither  toil  nor  danger  hindered  him 
from  exploring,  first  the  western,  and  then  the  eastern  arm  of 
the  Indus  in  order  to  convince  himself  that  a  passage  to  the 
sea  was  feasible.     The  spirit  of  enterprise  with  which  he  was 

28 


434:  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

animated  was  always  combined  witli  method  and  thorough- 
ness. 

At  last  the  desire  of  his  heart  was  attained.  At  first  from 
an  island  in  the  stream,  and  afterwards  from  one  outside  its 
mouth,  he  beheld  with  his  own  eyes  the  Indian  Ocean.  He 
sacrificed  to  the  gods  not  only  after  the  Grecian  fashion,  but 
also  in  accordance  with  the  rites  which  he  had  learned  in  the 
temple  of  Amon.  He  threw  into  the  sea  the  golden  goblets 
which  he  had  used  for  libations,  as  a  sort  of  offering,  and 
called  upon  Poseidon  to  guide  in  safety  the  fleet  which  he 
intended  to  send  thence  to  the  Persian  Gulf.  He  had  with 
him  an  old  friend,  of  Cretan  extraction,  named  Nearchus, 
who  had  remained  faithful  to  him  through  all  his  earlier 
troubles,  and  had  attended  him  on  his  march  through  Asia, 
first  of  all  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  Greek  mercenaries,  and 
afterwards  as  commander  of  a  division  of  select  troops.  To 
this  well-tried  and  skilful  comrade  he  intrusted  the  command 
of  the  fleet  destined  to  explore  the  way  by  sea  to  the  Persian 
Gulf,  and  to  investigate  the  conditions  under  which  the  route 
could  be  utilized.  The  mouths  of  the  Indus  were  to  be  perma- 
nently connected  with  those  of  the  Euphrates.  Between  the 
Euphrates  and  the  Nile  commercial  intercourse  liad  long 
existed.  We  have  seen  how  Alexander  created  an  emporium 
for  Mediterranean  trade  at  the  mouth  of  the  Egyptian  stream. 
Alexandria  on  the  Indus  and  Alexandria  on  the  Nile  were 
thus  to  be  intimately  connected  with  each  other.  The  one 
opened  the  Mediterranean  and  the  West,  the  other  was  to  form 
a  great  centre  of  trade  for  the  Oriental  world.  These  vast 
and  yet  practicable  combinations  far  exceeded  the  efforts  at 
colonization  made  by  the  Phoenicians  in  both  directions,  and 
were  the  chief  links  in  the  chain  which  bound  together  the 
new  world-empire  of  Alexander. 

Alexander's  enterprise  in  India  was  completed  by  his 
retreat  through  Gedrosia.  It  was  not  merely  a  retreat,  for  it 
involved  an  occupation  of  the  coasts,  which  was  as  important 
for  the  fleet  as  the  security  of  the  settlements  on  the  banks 
of  the  Indus.  Alexander,  on  his  march,  kept  as  near  as  pos- 
Biblo  to  the  shore,  and  took  measures  for  the  reception  and 
support  of  the  fleet,  wliich  had  been  instructed  to  sail  along 


RETREAT  OF  ALEXANDER.  435 

the  coast.  On  his  march  he  encountered  great  difficulties. 
The  heat  of  the  sun,  the  depth  of  the  sand,  the  attacks  of  the 
half-savage  inhabitants,  lastly,  the  ignorance  of  his  guides,  were 
hinderances  hardly  to  be  surmounted.  Sometimes  the  road  led 
through  deserts  devoid  of  water  and  vegetation  of  every  kind.* 
On  one  of  these  occasions  it  is  said  that  Alexander,  when  his 
army  was  suffering  from  thirst,  had  some  water  brought  him 
in  a  helmet.  He  poured  it  out  upon  the  ground,  for  he  was 
determined  to  share  everything  with  his  followers.  A  veri- 
similar action  is  related  of  King  David  :  it  betokens  a  renun- 
ciation of  all  advantages  which  belong  to  the  king  and  general 
as  sucli.  The  badness  of  the  climate  and  the  want  of  provi- 
sions brought  sickness  in  their  train,  and  caused  the  loss  of 
many  lives.  The  army  was  reduced  to  little  more  than  half 
its  original  numbers  when  it  arrived  in  Caramania.  Here 
the  land  was  more  productive,  and,  at  the  same  time,  cam- 
els laden  with  the  necessaries  of  life  came  in  from  all  sides. 
Abundant  reinforcements  were  brought  up  by  Craterus,  who, 
with  his  Indian  elephants,  had  returned  by  way  of  Arachosia. 
The  king  was,  however,  very  anxious  about  the  fate  of  his 
fleet.  Nearchus,  who  began  his  voyage  early  in  October,  325 
B.C.,  was  much  aided  by  the  monsoons.  We  may  remark  in 
passing  that  it  is  to  him  that  nautical  science  owes  its  first  ac- 
quaintance with  these  winds.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had 
many  difficulties  to  contend  w-ith.  He  was  obliged  to  put  into 
port  on  the  island  of  Bibacta,  and  to  remain  there  some  weeks, 
having  meanwhile  to  fortify  his  camp  against  the  attacks  of 
the  inhabitants.  The  harbor  where  he  lay  he  called  by  the 
name  of  his  king.f  The  privations  which  had  to  be  endured 
at  sea  were  no  less  severe  than  those  which  the  troops  suffered 
on  shore.  Bnt  all  difficulties  were  eventually  overcome,  and 
the  fleet  arrived  in  Caramania,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
Aramis.  The  ships  were  beached,  and  the  camp  fortified 
with  a  wall.     The  spot  was  only  about  five  days'  journey  dis- 

*  The  sketch  in  Strabo  (xv.  §  4,  pp.  721  sq.),  and  the  narrative  of  Arrian, 
which  are  not  taken  altogether  from  the  same  sources,  are  both  deserving 
of  notice. 

t  It  is  now  called  Chilney. 


436  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

tant  from  where  Alexander  lay.  Meanwhile  the  king  had 
received  so  little  news  of  his  fleet  that  he  almost  gave  it  up 
for  lost.  We  can  understand  how  grievous  would  have  been 
his  disappointment  had  the  chief  result  of  his  great  expedi- 
tion, the  knowledge  of  the  connection  between  the  Persian 
Gulf  and  the  Indian  Ocean,  been  lost  with  his  fleet.  This  is 
what  is  implied  by  his  exclamation  that  the  loss  of  the  fleet 
would  outweigh  all  the  good-fortune  he  had  hitherto  enjoyed. 
When  he  saw  Nearchus,  who  came  to  him  immediately  upon 
his  landing,  he  burst  into  tears  of  joy ;  and  his  tears  only 
flowed  the  faster  when  he  heard  that  not  only  the  admiral 
but  also  the  fleet  was  safe  in  port.  The  success  of  the  great 
undertaking,  which  became  an  accomplished  fact  when  Alex- 
ander and  his  admiral  met,  was  celebrated  with  games  in  the 
Hellenic  fashion,  at  which  the  king  and  Nearclms  appeared 
together,  both  with  garlands  on  their  heads. 

From  Caramania  Alexander  travelled  to  Susa,  thence  to 
Ecbatana,  lastl}^  to  Babylon.  The  stories  of  farther  schemes 
which  he  is  said  to  have  announced  in  Babylon  must  be  for 
the  most  part  hypothetical,  or  at  any  rate  appear  to  spring 
from  a  mixture  of  truth  and  fiction.  We  are  told  that  his 
first  intention  was  to  prevent  the  Arabs  from  harassing  his 
frontier,  by  a  great  attack  upon  them  by  land  and  sea.  Ac- 
cording to  the  communications  which,  at  a  later  date,  were 
made  to  the  army,  he  cherished  the  idea  of  making  a  serious 
attack  upon  Carthage.  For  this  purpose,  we  are  told  that  ho 
intended  to  make  a  military  road  from  Kyrene  through  Libya, 
and  to  equip  a  thousand  triremes  in  Phoenicia,  Syria,  Cilicia, 
and  Cyprus.  The  Pereian  kings  had  once  conceived  a  similar 
plan,  but  had  relinqnishcd  it.  Greek  and  Persian  ideas  were 
combined  in  Alexander.  The  conquest  of  Carthago  would 
have  made  him  master  of  the  Western  world. 

It  is  quite  ]X)8sible  that  far-reaching  plans  of  this  kind 
floated  in  the  minds  of  Alexander  and  his  generals,  but  that 
anything  of  the  sort  had  been  determined  on  cannot  be  proved. 
A  true  conception  of  Alexander's  character  will  permit,  if  not 
compel,  the  historian  to  doubt  whether  such  was  the  case. 
The  enterprises  of  Alexander,  so  far  as  they  had  been  com- 
pleted at  this  moment,  are  harmonious  and  complete  in  them- 


ALEXANDER'S  CONQUESTS.  437 

selves.  We  need  not  stop  to  inquire  whether  the  idea  of  a 
revolution  in  the  East  floated  from  the  first  before  his  eyes, 
but  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  the  force  of  circumstances  led 
him  step  by  step  to  that  result.  Beginning  with  the  expedi- 
tions against  the  nations  of  the  Danube,  which  were  under- 
taken because  otherwise  the  power  gained  by  his  father  over 
Greece  could  not  have  been  maintained,  ho  proceeded  to 
make  war  upon  the  states  of  Hellas  which  were  hostile  to 
that  power,  and  overcame  them.  The  fact  that  the  latter 
found  support  in  the  Persian  dominion  over  Asia  Minor  led 
Alexander  to  make  an  attack  upon  the  Persians,  the  fortunate 
issue  of  which  exceeded  all  expectations.  But  the  hostile 
powers  still  kept  command  of  the  sea.  Alexander  could  not 
become  supreme  over  that  element  until  he  liad  conquered 
Egypt,  and,  above  all,  Phoenicia.  This  was,  however,  impos- 
sible until  the  power  of  the  Great  King,  who  ruled  over  those 
lands,  was  defeated  in  a  decisive  battle.  Such  a  defeat  was 
inflicted  at  Issus.  That  battle  gave  Alexander  dominion  over 
the  eastern  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  and  over  the  lands 
which  had  seen  the  dawn  of  civilization.  Thence  he  directed 
his  gaze,  of  necessity,  to  Babylon,  the  religious  connection  of 
which  with  the  districts  which  he  had  occupied  was  of  ancient 
date.  But  Babylon  could  not  be  conquered  so  long  as  the 
territories  which  were  the  birthplace  of  the  Assyrian  and 
Medo-Persian  empires  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Persians. 
The  greatest  of  all  its  triumphs  was  won  by  the  Grasco-Make- 
donian  army  in  the  plain  of  Gaugamela.  The  nations  of  which 
the  great  empire  was  composed,  and  which  then  met  him  in 
the  field,  were  conquered  at  one  blow.  The  result  was  that 
not  only  Babylon  fell,  but  with  it  the  Persian  empire.  The 
extent  of  that  empire  compelled  Alexander  to  press  forward 
to  Bactria  and  the  Jaxartes  on  the  one  side,  and  on  the  other 
to  the  banks  of  the  Indus. 

It  was  an  incomparable  career  of  victory  which  fell  to  the 
lot  of  Alexander.  In  his  early  youth  he  took  a  decisive  share 
in  the  battle  of  Chseroneia,  after  which,  as  commander-in- 
chief,  he  won  the  battles  on  the  Graneicus,  at  Issus,  at  Gau- 
gamela, and,  lastly,  on  the  Hydaspes:  ^ve  battles,  each  of 
which  marks  a  revolution  in  the  circumstances  of  the  world. 


438  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

Along  with  these  victories  must  be  reckoned  the  captures  of 
such  towns  *as  Thebes,  Halicarnassus,  Tyre,  and  Gaza;  and 
in  India,  of  the  mountain-fortress  Aornus,  and  of  the  capital 
of  the  Malli.  All  these  were  military  triumphs  of  the  very 
first  rank,  and  followed  each  other  in  one  uninterrupted  se- 
quence of  success. 

The  share  taken  by  Alexander  in  the  progress  of  geography 
consists  mainly  in  this:  that  he  rediscovered  the  maritime 
route  from  the  mouths  of  the  Euphrates  to  the  mouths  of  the 
Indus,  and  tliat  he  not  only  rediscovered  it,  but  put  it  to 
actual  use.  This  exploit  united  all  the  conquered  territories 
into  one  whole.  Within  the  circle  of  these  conquests  we 
may  perhaps  say  that  his  greatest  feat  consisted  in  re-establish- 
ing over  an  immense  area  the  supremacy  of  polytheism,  wliich 
had  been  much  reduced  by  the  Persian  dominion.  It  was  ow- 
ing to  him  that  the  Greek,  Egyptian,  and  Syrian  religions  be- 
came fused  in  one  another.  Towards  the  Jews  he  showed 
toleration,  for  in  their  religion  he  beheld  a  national  institu- 
tion. He  overthrew  the  Persians,  yet  without  suppressing 
their  religious  opinions.  Against  the  Brahmins  he  championed 
the  cause  of  the  Grecian  gods. 

But  something  he  brought  with  him  from  Greece  greater 
than  its  gods.  The  Greeks  had  arrived  at  an  idealistic  con- 
ception of  the  world,  so  far  as  such  a  conception  is  attainable 
by  the  human  mind.  They  had  created  a  literature  which 
embraced  all  tendencies  of  thought — the  earliest  and  the  most 
brilliant  of  the  literatures  of  the  world.  To  the  ideas  which 
animated  this  literature  Alexander  threw  open  the  East,  and 
even  subjected  it  to  their  domination.  To  the  influence  of 
thought  he  added  the  influence  of  force.  His  victories  are 
not  merely  events  in  military  history,  but  also  steps  in  the 
onward  coui*se  of  human  civilization,  especially  in  relation  to 
art  and  commerce.  For  these  he  everywhere  founded  new 
homes,  which  he  delighted  to  niark  by  his  own  name.  The 
mixture  of  polytheism  with  the  greatest  efforts  of  culture  is 
the  distinctive  mark  of  the  epoch.  The  religion  of  humanity, 
which  in  later  times  became  prominent,  has  always  adhered 
firmly  to  its  connection  with  the  ideas  of  science  and  civiliza- 
tion. 


CHARACTER  OF  ALEXANDER.  4.39 

In  Alexander,  as  he  is  described  to  us,  there  is  somewhat 
of  the  ideal  which  the  Greeks  incorporated  in  their  Dionysus, 
the  god  who,  born  of  lightning  and  the  earth — for  that  is 
what  the  story  of  Semele  means — traverses  the  world  victo- 
rious and  irresistible ;  the  god  who,  in  the  midst  of  all  his 
victories,  wears  a  wreath  of  vine-leaves,  or  carries  a  goblet  to- 
gether with  his  sceptre.  Alexander,  like  him,  delighted  in 
the  enjoyments  of  life.  He  w\as  riotous  at  the  banquet,  full 
of  confidence  and  affection  to  those  about  him,  and  generous 
even  to  lavishness.  But  woe  to  the  man  who  irritated  him, 
for  in  his  wrath  he  lost  all  self-command,  though  afterwards 
he  gave  himself  up  to  the  bitterest  feelings  to  which  man  can 
be  a  prey,  the  remorse  for  an  evil  deed  which  can  never  be 
undone.  He  was  thoroughly  human,  and  was  easily  influ- 
enced by  the  most  opposite  impulses.  He  did  not  shun  the 
company  of  Thais,  but  could  honor  Sisygambis.  He  thrust 
Darius  from  the  throne,  but  afterwards  avenged  his  death. 
With  all  his  defects,  he  always  manifested  an  innate  feeling, 
a  sort  of  instinct,  for  the  magnificent  and  truly  great.  His 
personal  appearance  showed  a  rare  combination  of  muscular 
strength  and  agility.  In  his  eyes  men  thought  they  recog- 
nized the  expression,  not  only  of  gentleness  and  sensitiveness, 
but  of  lion-like  courage.  The  portraits  which  the  ancients 
possessed  of  him  are  characteristic  :  the  hair  fell  back  from  a 
high  and  open  brow,  and  his  head  had  a  slight  inclination  to 
the  left  side.  The  bust  in  the  Louvre  with  a  Greek  inscrip- 
tion, which  has  been  ascribed  to  an  Athenian  studio,  is  proba- 
bly a  copy  from  an  original  made  in  Alexander's  lifetime.  It 
breathes  resolution  and  independence,  combined  with  refine- 
ment and  tenderness.  The  spectator  can  hardly  tear  himself 
away  from  it  when  he  thinks  of  the  deeds  and  qualities  of  the 
man  whom  it  represents. 

After  Alexander's  return  from  India  his  principal  employ- 
ment was  in  controlling  the  violence  of  his  lieutenants,  to 
whom  he  had  intrusted  his  authority.  In  the  position  which 
he  now  occupied  he  was  unable  to  dispense  with  the  Persians, 
in  whose  footsteps  he  trod.  We  are  told  that  he  caused  a 
large  number  of  the  Persian  youth  to  be  drilled  after  Greek 
fashion  in  the  use  of  arms.     The  number  of  young  men  who 


440  THE  MAKEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

were  presented  to  Lira,  after  going  through  their  course,  was 
estimated  as  high  as  30,000.  We  see  signs  that  an  attempt 
was  made  to  unite  Makedonians  and  Persians  in  minor  as 
well  as  more  important  services.  Alexander's  marriage  with 
the  eldest  daughter  of  his  predecessor  meant  nothing  else 
than  that  the  successor  of  Alexander  was  also  to  be  the  suc- 
cessor of  the  Persian  kings.  This  marriage,  it  was  hoped, 
would  lead  to  a  fusion  of  the  two  nationalities.  Alexander's 
intention  is  said  to  have  been  to  bring  colonies  from  Europe 
to  Asia,  and  from  Asia  to  Europe.  The  two  continents  were 
to  be  united  as  closely  as  possible  by  mutual  communication. 
The  arts  and  architecture  of  the  different  countries  were  also 
to  be  fused.  It  is  characteristic  of  Alexander  that  he  thought 
of  erecting  a  pyramid  in  honor  of  his  father  as  large  as  the 
largest  of  those  in  Egypt. 

While  full  of  these  revolutionary  ideas  he  was  robbed  by 
death  of  his  best  friend  and  counsellor,  Ilephsestion,  whom 
he  used  to  call  his  second  self.  From  this  time  forth  he  lost 
all  his  gayety.  He  obtained  permission  from  the  oracle  of 
Amon  to  honor  his  friend  as  a  demi-god,  whereupon  he 
caused  his  body  to  be  burned  and  entombed  in  Babylon  with 
the  most  splendid  ceremonies.  It  is  not  clear  whether  the 
conversations  which  he  held  in  his  latter  days  turned  chiefly 
upon  recollections  of  his  past  experiences  or  upon  plans  for 
the  future.  But  the  rapid  and  almost  miraculous  develop- 
ment of  his  life  was  fittingly  closed  by  a  rapid  and  early 
death."'^  Alexander  died  in  the  first  half  of  the  month  of 
June,  in  the  year  323.  He  was  only  thirty-two  years  old. 
In  the  family  from  which  he  sprang  early  deaths  were  not 
uncommon,  and  no  one  need  wonder  that  Alexander,  ex- 


*  In  the  Ephemerides  (Plutarcli,  "Alexander,"  chaps.  76  sq.)  the  28th 
of  the  Mttkedonian  month  Daisios  was  given  as  the  day  of  Alexander's 
death.  Aristobulus  gives  tlie  30th ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  reckon  dates  by 
the  Makedonian  months.  If  we  follow  Plutarch  in  identifying  the  month 
of  Daisies  with  the  Attic  month  Thargelion  ("  Alexander,"  chap.  10 ; 
**Camillus,"  chap.  19),  the  first  of  the  above  statements  fixes  tiic  day  as 
the  8th,  the  second  as  the  10th  of  June.  The  reckoning  hitherto  followed, 
fixing  it  on  the  11th  or  18th  of  June,  rests  on  a  different  construction  of 
the  Attic  calendar. 


DEATH  OF  ALEXANDER.  441 

liausted  by  all  the  exertions  and  all  the  enjoyments  which 
life  presents,  succumbed  early  to  the  common  fate  of  man. 

It  has  often  been  suggested  that  he  died  by  poison,  in 
consequence  of  the  anxiety  produced  in  his  own  country  by 
the  Oriental  tendencies  which  he  displayed.  About  this  noth- 
ing further  can  be  known  than  that  such  an  opposition  exist- 
ed between  tlie  intentions  of  Alexander,  which  tended  towards 
a  monarchy  of  the  Persian  kind,  and  the  independent  feelings 
of  the  Greeks  and  Makedonians,  who  had  won  the  victory 
over  that  monarchy.  Alexander  may  be  styled  fortunate  in 
that  his  death  saved  him  from  the  painful  complications  which 
could  not  fail  to  spring  from  this  internal  opposition. 


Chapter  XI. 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  GIL^CO-MAKEDONIAN  KINGDOMS. 

Alexajjtoer  had  destroyed  an  empire,  but  liad  not  succeed- 
ed in  erecting  a  new  one  in  its  place.  The  fundamental  no- 
tions which  are  indispensable  to  a  regular  administration  were 
in  the  Makedonian  empire  vague  and  uncertain.  It  was  true 
that  the  new  ruler  was  obeyed  as  the  successor  of  the  ancient 
kings  in  the  satrapies  into  which  the  empire  of  the  Achreme- 
nidse  was  divided.  But  the  Grseco-Makedonian  army,  which 
had  won  the  victory,  was  not  inclined  to  put  up  with  such  a 
transformation.  From  the  differences  which  this  disagreement 
caused  immediately  after  tlie  taking  of  Persepolis  sprang  the 
bitterest  disappointments  which  Alexander  had  to  endure.  It 
would  be  a  mistake  to  assume  that  the  Makedonian  army,  in 
acting  thus,  threw  off  allegiance  to  the  royal  authority,  as 
legally  and  traditionally  constituted.  Pliilotas  and  his  fellow- 
conspirators  were  condemned  by  a  court-martial,  that  is  to 
say,  by  the  troops  themselves  or  by  their  commanders.  We 
have  already  seen  that  the  absolute  power  of  the  commander- 
in-chief  was  an  liistorical  necessity  :  great  armies  are  created 
in  order  to  carry  out  great  conceptions.  But  the  military 
constitution  has  also  another  side ;  for  armies  cannot  be  mere 
instruments.  The  success  of  their  arms  induces  the  troops  to 
think  for  themselves  and  to  manifest  a  will  of  their  own. 
Alexander  often  remarked  to  the  Makedonians  who  followed 
liim  that  his  enterprise  had  originated  not  so  much  in  himself 
as  in  his  army,  for  it  was  the  army  which  had  originally  de- 
manded an  attack  upon  Persia.  The  soldiei-s  had  won  tho 
victory,  and  they  now  desired  to  enjoy  its  fruits. 

It  was  natural  that  they  should  have  been  disgusted  with 
tho  schemes  of  Alexander  for  bringing  about  a  combination 
of  the  two  nationalities  in  tho  army  itself,  for  in  this  proposal 


QUESTION  OF  THE  SUCCESSION.  443 

they  perceived  an  attempt  to  deprive  them  of  the  exclusive 
military  power  which  they  liad  won.  But  with  the  death 
of  the  king  his  schemes  fell  to  the  ground.  The  prince 
who  had  contemplated  a  fusion  of  East  and  West  was  dead, 
and  the  Grseco-Makedonian  army  felt,  for  the  first  time,  its 
full  independence  and  power.  The  deepest  hostility  was 
aroused  among  the  troops  by  the  combination  of  the  Make- 
donian  monarchy  with  the  authority  of  the  Great  King.  Now 
that  Alexander  was  dead,  they  had  ideas  of  their  own  to  put 
forward  about  this  combination. 

Alexander  did  not  die  altogether  without  offspring,  but  his 
children  were  not  in  a  position  to  make  legal  claim  to  the 
rights  of  succession.  After  his  return  from  India  he  had 
wedded  the  elder  daughter  of  Darius ;  the  younger  sister  he 
married  to  the  only  friend  whom  he  could  entirely  trust.  The 
male  offspring  of  the  former  marriage  might  naturally  be  ex- 
pected to  regard  themselves  as,  in  the  first  place,  kings  of  the 
Persians,  and  this  was  the  more  likely  since  Sisygambis,  the 
mother  of  Darius,  was  still  alive,  and  would  have  taken  charge 
of  her  grandchildren.  But  after  the  death  of  Alexander  Sisy- 
gambis died  of  grief,  and  her  granddaughters  were  enticed 
from  the  asylum  which  they  had  found  with  her  and  put  to 
deatli.  This  act  has  been  ascribed  to  Roxana,  the  daughter 
of  a  Bactrian  prince,  whom  Alexander  had  taken  to  wife  ;  for 
the  Makedonian  kings  had  not  renounced  polj^gamy.  She  is 
said  to  have  carried  out  tlie  deed  of  violence  with  the  conni- 
vance of  Perdiccas.  At  the  time  of  Alexander's  death  she  was 
with  child.  But  if,  as  was  expected,  and  as  actually  happened, 
she  were  to  give  birth  to  a  son,  the  same  objection  could  be 
made  to  this  child,  namely,  that  he  was  of  Oriental  origin. 
Such  a  successor  was  not  at  all  to  the  taste  of  the  Makedo- 
nians.  They  maintained  that  the  half-brother  of  Alexander, 
Arrhidseus,  who  at  this  time  assumed  his  father's  name  of 
Philip,  was  Alexander's  true  successor. 

This  produced  fresh  complications.  It  is  always  a  hazard- 
ous task  to  extricate  the  simple  fact  from  the  legendary  addi- 
tions with  which  history  has  been  intentionally  overlaid.  The 
statement  that  after  the  king's  death  the  chief  commanders, 
and  among  them  Perdiccas,  were  disinclined  to  take  any  action 


444  THE  DIADOCHI. 

until  tho  birth  of  Koxana's  cliild  had  taken  place,  is  not  con- 
firmed by  the  simplest  account  that  we  have  of  the  matter. 
According  to  Diodorns  the  chief  commanders  claimed  for 
themselves,  after  the  death  of  the  king,  the  obedience  which 
the  army  had  hitherto  shown  them.  But  the  phalanx  refused 
to  obey  the  orders  of  their  captains  until  a  king  should  be 
named.  The  traditions  of  their  own  country  possessed  domi- 
nant influence  over  them,  and  they  determined  to  have  a 
king.  They  demanded  that  Arrhidseus  should  be  recognized 
by  the  generals  as  well  as  by  themselves.  One  of  the  gen- 
erals consented,  but  at  first  it  appeared  as  if  the  question 
would  have  to  be  decided  by  the  sword.  Arrliidgeus,  however, 
who  was  not  in  full  possession  of  his  wits,  was  not  a  man  from 
whom  the  generals,  who  were  almost  without  exception  men 
of  talent  and  high  military  reputation,  would  have  had  any- 
thing to  fear.  They  therefore  recognized  Arrhidaeus  as  king, 
but  apparently  with  a  reservation  in  favor  of  the  boy  to 
whom  Roxana  might  give  birth.  The  rank  and  file  of  the 
army  consented  to  admit  the  cliild  to  a  certain  share  in  the 
government. 

It  appears,  then,  that  a  sort  of  union  of  tlie  Persian  and 
Makedonian  succession  was  in  prospect.  It  is  not  worth 
while  to  investigate  the  question  further,  since  it  is  one  of  no 
real  interest.  It  was,  however,  a  fact  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance that  the  generals,  while  recognizing  Arrhidaeus,  insisted 
on  the  condition  that  the  satrapies  of  the  empire  should  be 
divided  among  tliem.  Perdiccas,  who  was  in  possession  of 
Alexander's  signet-ring,  and  declared  that  he  had  received  it 
from  the  king  himself,  was  actually  regarded  as  liis  lieutenant, 
and  conducted  this  important  operation.  He  assumed  the 
position  of  chiliarch,  which  Bagoas  had  once  occupied,  and 
which  Alexander  had  transferred  to  Hephsestion,  an  office 
which  conferred  upon  its  holder  the  power  of  a  regent.  Tho 
chief  deduction  to  be  made  from  these  events  is  that  the 
Makedonian  army  showed  itself  to  be  the  true  possessor  of 
power.  It  was  understood  that  there  was  a  king  in  whom 
supreme  authority  resided,  but  the  army,  under  its  original 
commanders,  was  the  real  ruler.  It  has  been  remarked  that 
the  greatest  ornaments  of  literature  have  frequently  appeared 


RISING  IN  GREECE.  445 

simultaneously,  and  the  same  may  perhaps  be  said  of  military 
talent.  Men  like  Ptolemseus  the  son  of  Lagus,  Antigonns, 
Eumenes,  An ti pater,  and  Crateras  were  born  to  carry  out 
great  military  operations.  These  men  had  become  practically 
independent  by  the  death  of  their  king,  but  they  recognized 
Arrhidsens  and  Perdiccas  as  their  leaders. 

The  Makedonian  army  had  in  this  way  freed  itself  from 
Persian  influence.  But  it  was  equally  unwilling  to  admit  the 
Greeks  to  a  share  of  power.  In  the  inland  provinces  of  Asia 
an  outbreak  of  insubordination  among  the  Greek  inhabitants 
took  place,  but  was  at  once  put  down.  The  insurgents  were 
overwhelmed  and  destroyed,  by  command  of  Perdiccas,  who 
took  care  that  the  general  whom  he  despatched  for  the  pur- 
pose should  not  be  tempted  to  put  himself  at  their  head. 
This  movement  was  accompanied  by  a  simultaneous  rising  in 
Greece  itself,  which  deserves  further  mention.  It  was  directed 
against  Antipater,  who,  in  the  name  of  Alexander,  exercised 
supreme  power  in  that  country.  The  news  of  the  king's 
death  could  not  but  produce  a  disturbing  effect  upon  the 
Greeks.  In  Athens  the  Makedonian  power  was  compared 
with  the  Cyclops  whose  single  eye  was  put  out,  and  it  was 
proposed  at  once  to  take  up  arms  against  Antipater.  Phokion 
was  again  hostile  to  the  proposal.  The  answer  that  he  gave 
to  the  question,  when  the  occasion  would  arise  for  him  to 
give  his  counsel  for  war,  is  very  characteristic.  "  When  I 
sec,"  said  he,  "  that  the  young  men  know  how  to  drill,  when 
the  rich  men  pay  their  debts,  and  when  public  speakers  no 
longer  seize  on  the  property  of  the  nation." 

But,  in  spite  of  his  opposition,  the  movement  found  wide 
support  elsewhere.  Mercenaries  out  of  service,  some  of  whom 
were  rejected  by  Alexander,  while  others  had  been  dismissed 
by  Persian  satraps,  had  collected  round  the  Athenian  Leos- 
thenes.  At  the  head  of  these  troops,  who  brought  with  them 
from  Asia  a  deadly  hatred  of  the  Makedonians,  Leosthenes 
raised  the  flag  of  Grecian  freedom.  With  the  countenance  of 
Demosthenes,  and  the  connivance  of  the  Athenians,  he  first 
of  all  led  his  mercenaries  to  ^toli^a,.  where  he  received  con- 
siderable reinforcements.  After  this  he  and  his  friends,  who 
all  belonged  to  the  same  party,  succeeded  in  persuading  the 


446  THE  DIADOCHL 

Athenians  to  resolve  on  war.  The  ideas  of  Hellenic  indepen- 
dence and  freedom,  overthrown  by  Philip  and  suppressed  by 
Alexander,  rose  again  to  the  surface.  Demosthenes,  although 
an  exile  from  Athens,  joined  the  Athenian  ambassadors  of 
his  own  free  will,  and  lent  them  the  support  of  his  eloquence. 
The  Athenians  were  first  of  all  joined  by  the  ^tolians  and 
Thessalians.  The  Boeotians,  wlio  owed  a  great  improvement 
in  their  circumstances  to  Alexander,  refused  their  adhesion, 
but  were  forced  to  join  the  movement.  Leosthenes  occupied 
Thermopylae  with  so  strong  a  force  that  Antipater  retreated 
before  him  and  shut  himself  up  in  Lamia.  The  reinforce- 
ments which  Leonnatus  was  bringing  him  from  Asia  were 
beaten  by  the  Greeks,  and  only  a  part  of  them  succeeded  in 
joining  him.  It  is  impossible  not  to  sympathize  with  this 
revival  of  the  ideas  of  Greek  independence,  but  the  cause  of 
the  Greeks  was  again  hampered  by  their  disunion.  The 
craving  for  political  isolation  was  still,  as  of  old,  uppermost  in 
their  hearts.  The  ^tolians,  on  whose  alliance  with  Athens 
the  whole  enterprise  depended,  were  obliged  by  an  attack  of 
the  Acarnanians  to  return  home,  and  the  rest  of  the  allies  had 
always  to  guard  against  their  own  particular  enemies,  while 
Sparta,  once  the  most  formidable  state  of  Greece,  took  no 
part  in  the  movement.  At  the  same  time  the  Greek  soldier 
resented  the  severity  of  the  discipline  on  which  martial  law 
insisted. 

On  the  other  hand  the  Makedonian  commanders  still  held 
together,  and  maintained  the  unity  of  administration  to  which 
they  liad  hitherto  owed  their  success.  Craterus  led  the  invin- 
cible phalanx  over  to  Makedonia,  and  the  Greek  levies  proved 
no  match  for  the  Makedonian  army.  They  were,  moreover, 
compelled  to  fight  at  a  time  when  many  of  them,  from  con- 
tempt of  the  enemy,  had  returned  home.  The  Thessalian 
cavalry,  who  had  made  the  Grecian  army  to  some  extent 
formidable,  lield  aloof  from  the  battle,  or  were  hindered  from 
taking  part  in  it,  and  at  Cranon  the  Makedonian  troops  under 
Antipater  and  Craterus  won  a  decided  victory.  This  defeat, 
wliich  took  place  on  the  anniversary  of  Choeroneia  (August  5, 
322  B.O.),  was  no  less  important  than  that  battle  for  the  future 
of  Greece.    Far  from  acknowledging  the  league  which  had 


DEATH  OF  DEMOSTHENES.  447 

been  lately  made  by  the  Greeks,  Antipater  declared  that  he 
would  only  deal  with  them  singly.  They  thereupon  submit- 
ted, one  city  or  state  after  another.  Athens  had  to  put  up 
with  a  peace  which  was  far  more  oppressive  than  the  treaties 
which  she  had  formerly  made  with  Philip  and  with  Alexander. 
The  chief  conditions  of  this  peace  were  the  acceptance  of  a 
Makedonian  garrison  and  a  fundamental  change  in  the  consti- 
tution, involving  an  enactment  that  tlie  possession  of  a  fortune 
of  at  least  2000  drachmae  was  necessary  to  entitle  a  citizen  to 
a  vote  in  the  management  of  public  affairs.  It  was  hoped 
that  this  would  prevent  those  who  had  nothing  to  lose  from 
disturbing  or  destroying  the  existing  state  of  things.  The  re- 
sult of  these  changes  was  that  the  democracy,  as  hitherto  con- 
stituted, was  overthrown,  and  the  political  independence  of 
Atlicns  entirely  destroyed. 

The  catastrophe  was  marked  by  the  death  of  the  great  ora- 
tor, who  had  always  offered  the  most  strenuous  opposition  to 
the  influence  of  Makedonia.  He  had  now  to  endure  the  bit- 
terness of  being  condemned  to  death  by  the  newly  constructed 
Demos.  He  fled  to  Calauria,  and  took  refuge  in  a  temple  of 
Poseidon.  Messengers  from  Antipater  tried  to  persuade  him 
to  trust  himself  to  the  mercy  of  their  master,  but  he  preferred 
to  put  an  end  to  himself.  It  is  narrated  that,  while  pretend- 
ing to  write,  he  put  the  pen,  in  which  he  had  concealed 
poison,  into  his  mouth,  and  covered  his  head.  WJien  he  felt 
the  working  of  the  poison  he  removed  the  veil,  and  called  the 
gods  to  witness  the  sacrilege  committed  by  the  Makedonians, 
by  whom  the  sanctity  of  the  temple  was  violated.  At  the 
very  foot  of  the  altar  he  fell  unconscious,  and  breathed  his 
last.  At  the  moment  when  the  freedom  of  Athens  perished 
forever  the  most  eloquent  mouth  which  had  defended  it  was 
silenced  by  death  :*  the  new  world  had  no  more  place  for 

*  This,  with  other  circumstances,  is  the  upshot  of  Ariston's  narrative, 
■which  Plutarch  follows  in  his  "  Life  of  Demosthenes  "  (chap.  39).  In  the 
"  ArjfioaOkvovg  lyKdJfiiov  "  of  Lucian,  this  story  is  enlarged  by  a  speech  full 
of  invectives  against  the  Makedonians,  which  Demosthenes  is  supposed 
to  have  uttered,  and  by  other  imaginary  additions.  In  the  "  Life  of  the 
Ten  Orators,"  formerly  ascribed  to  Plutarch,  we  read  that  the  Make- 
donians tried  to  lay  hands  on  Demosthenes,  but  were  hindered  by  the 


448  THE  DIADOCHL 

Demosthenes.  Four  enemies  of  the  Makedonians  were  torn 
away  from  the  altar  of  ^acns,  brought  before  Antipater,  and 
pnt  to  death.  About  the  same  time  Aristotle  died.  He  be- 
longed to  the  other  party  ;  but,  when  banished  from  Athens, 
found  in  Chalkis,  under  Makedonian  protection,  a  harbor  of 
refuge  for  his  school. 

With  all  our  sympathy  for  the  freedom  of  Greece,  we  are 
still  tempted,  when  we  consider  universal  conditions,  to  find 
some  compensation  for  its  destruction  in  the  fact  that  the  full 
influence  of  Greek  genius  upon  the  world  at  large  only  began 
to  be  felt  under  the  dominion  of  the  Makedonians. 

After  the  suppression  of  the  insurrection  in  Greece  the 
generals,  afterwards  known  as  the  Diadochi,  or  successors  of 
Alexander,  fell  out  with  one  another.  The  supreme  authority 
w^iich  Perdiccas  exercised  as  representative  of  the  monarchy 
received  only  grudging  recognition  from  the  principal  gen- 
erals. Perdiccas  found  himself  obliged  to  take  up  arms 
against  Ptolemgeus  the  son  of  Lagus,  to  whose  share  Egypt 
had  fallen,  and  his  ally  Antigonus,  who  ruled  over  Phrygia. 
But  Ptolemseus  had  taken  up  a  strong  defensive  position  in 
Egypt,  so  that  the  expedition  of  Perdiccas  did  not  attain  the 
desired  results.  This,  in  its  turn,  led  to  a  revolution  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile.  Perdiccas  was  haughty  and  domineering, 
and  asked  no  one  for  advice.  Ptolemaeus,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  good-humored  and  yielding,  and  did  nothing  without  ask- 

inhabitants  of  the  town  (p.  846).  But  Strabo  assures  us  that  the  Make- 
donians were  restrained  by  respect  for  the  shrine  from  laying  hands 
upon  him  (vii.  c.  14,  p.  374)  ;  and  that,  instead  of  listening  to  the  invita- 
tion to  leave  the  temple,  Demosthenes  poisoned  himself.  In  another  re- 
port, which  comes  from  the  family  of  Demosthenes,  it  was  maintained 
that  Demosthenes  did  not  perish  by  poison,  but  through  the  special  care 
of  the  gods  escaped  by  a  painless  death  from  the  danger  of  fulling 
into  the  hands  of  the  Makedonians.  Similar  versions,  in  which  a  death 
"which  others  regarded  as  violent  is  traced  to  the  special  grace  of  the 
gods,  are  also  to  be  found  elsewhere.  On  the  other  hand,  an  author  as 
ancient  as  Philichorus  ascribed  the  death  of  Demosthenes  to  poison  (in 
Plutarch,  p.  874d;  fragment  139  in  MUller,  "Fragm.  Hist.  Grajc."  i.  p. 
407).  This  tradition  has  been  generally  followed.  Of  the  circumstances 
which  accompanied  the  event  those  which  I  have  inserted  in  the  text 
appear  to  me  to  have  most  confirmation. 


PERDICCAS  AND  ANTIPATER.  449 

ing  the  advice  of  his  lieutenants.  By  tliis  concession  he  met 
halfway  the  claims  which  the  Makedonian  generals  had  ac- 
customed themselves  to  make.  When  the  two  armies  met 
on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  the  principal  commanders  of  Per- 
diccas  went  over  to  Ptolemseus.  Perdiccas  was  nmrdered  in 
his  tent.*  Thereupon  a  council  of  generals  met,  who,  loyal 
as  ever  to  the  hereditary  reigning  family  of  Makedonia,  in- 
trusted Antipater  with  the  duties  of  government. 

At  this  point  our  attention  is  forcibly  drawm  to  the  fact 
that  it  was  in  itself  an  impossible  task  to  keep  together  under 
any  form  of  government  the  empire  which  Alexander  had 
appeared  to  leave  behind  him.  I  say  appeared,  because  his 
different  conquests  had  not  been  compacted  into  anything 
like  a  state.  In  the  provinces,  which  had  once  formed  sepa- 
rate kingdoms,  the  idea  of  reviving  these  kingdoms  naturally 
cropped  up.  But,  further,  the  Makedonian  commanders  had 
no  intention  of  maintaining  the  combination  of  the  Greek 
element  with  the  Makedonian.  It  is  intelligible  that  the 
commanders  of  Greek  extraction  regarded  with  favor  a  su- 
preme authority  like  that  of  Perdiccas,  for  such  a  comman- 
der-in-chief gave  them  some  support  against  the  preten- 
sions of  the  inferior  Makedonian  officers.  The  latter  showed 
their  feelings  by  raising  Antipater  to  the  position  of  a  grand 
vizier.  This  they  did  of  their  own  authorit}^,  although  it 
was  impossible  to  appeal  to  any  indication  in  Antipater's 
favor  on  the  part  of  Alexander,  and  they  did  it  at  the  very 
time  when  he  had  just  put  down  an  insurrection  in  Greece. 
At  the  same  time  they  condemned  to  death  Eumenes,  the 
only  Greek  among  them,  on  the  charge  of  having  been  a  par- 
tisan of  Perdiccas. 

Eumenes  of  Cardia  had  been  the  private  secretary  of  King 
Philip  during  his  later  years,  and  had  been  continually  em- 
ployed by  Alexander,  to  whom  he  had  attached  himself,  in 
business  of  the  first  importance.  He  had  had  the  credit  of 
bringing  about  the  compromise  which  was  made  after  the 

*  Clinton  ("  Fasti  Hell."  ii.  164)  fixes  the  death  of  Perdiccas  in  the 
spring  of  321  b.c.(01.  114,  3),  so  that  he  exercised  supreme  authority  only 
two  years,  not  three,  according  to  Diodorus  (xviii.  36). 

29 


450  THE  DIADOCHI. 

king's  death  between  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Makedonian 
army  and  the  principal  commanders.  For  this  service  he 
had  been  rewarded  with  the  satrapy  of  Cappadocia,  which, 
however,  he  had  first  of  all  to  reduce  to  complete  subjection. 
He  would  probably  have  been  able  to  maintain  his  position 
had  he  held  firmly  to  the  arrangement  which  he  himself  had 
brought  about,  but  his  adherence  to  Perdiccas  w^as  regarded 
as  a  crime  worthy  of  death.  Antipater  felt  himself  impelled 
to  intrust  Antigonus,  the  most  important  of  the  generals  who 
had  allied  themselves  with  Ptolemseus,  with  a  general  com- 
mission for  the  destruction  of  Eumenes.  The  latter  found 
unexpected  support  in  the  complications  produced  by  the  death 
of  Antipater,  which  took  place  just  at  this  time  (319  b.c). 
Antipater  bequeathed  the  supreme  authority,  which  the  army 
had  placed  in  his  hands,  to  Polysperchon,  a  member  of  a  com- 
paratively unimportant  family  in  Epeirus.  Polysperchon  at- 
tempted to  acquire  greater  consideration  by  summoning  back 
to  Makedonia  the  queen  dowager,  Olympias,  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  Epeirus.  This  step  was  a  great  deviation  from  the 
policy  which  had  hitherto  been  followed,  for  Olympias  had 
been  hostile  to  Antipater ;  but  its  chief  importance  for  the  col- 
lective empire,  if  we  may  use  the  phrase,  was  that  it  brought 
into  existence  a  new  embodiment  of  the  supreme  power. 
Olympias,  Polysperchon,  and  Eumenes  were  naturally  allied 
together.  They  represented  a  supreme  authority,  closely  con- 
nected with  the  monarchy,  and  independent  alike  of  the  pro- 
vincial authorities  and  the  military  commanders.  The  mili- 
tary and  political  power  of  the  Makedonian  generals  inevita- 
bly came  into  collision  with  each  several  member  of  this  alli- 
ance. 

The  combination  was  first  of  all  disastrous  for  Eumenes. 
The  chief  soldiers  of  the  phalanx,  who  were  distinguished  by 
silver-plated  shields,  whence  their  name  of  Argyraspides,  had 
hitherto  held  firmly  to  him,  and  refused  to  recognize  the  sen- 
tence uttered  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile.  But  a  defeat  expe- 
rienced by  Eumenes,  which  threatened  to  tarnish  the  lustre 
of  their  reputation,  impelled  them  to  deliver  up  their  general 
to  Antigonus.  Eumenes  was  shortly  afterwards  ])ut  to  death 
(816-15  B.C.).    He  was  the  only  Greek  in  the  Makedonian 


EXTINCTION  OF  THE  ROYAL  FAMILY.  451 

military  hierarchy.  The  Grecian  element,  which  had  had  so 
large  a  share  in  the  conquests  of  Alexander,  was  excluded  by 
the  commanders  of  Makedonian  origin. 

Against  Polysperchon  and  Olympias  the  independent  ten- 
dencies of  the  Makedonian  officers  found  an  ally  like-minded 
with  themselves  in  Cassander,  the  son  of  Antipater,  who 
could  not  bear  the  loss  of  the  authority  which  had  belonged 
to  his  father.  Antigonus  supplied  him  with  a  considerable 
fleet  and  army.  Thus  equipped,  he  appeared  before  Athens, 
which  was  unable  to  make  any  resistance.  The  Makedo- 
nians,  enraged  at  the  tyranny  of  Olympias,  to  whom  they  as- 
cribed the  death  of  Arrhidseus,*  which  occurred  about  this 
time,  took  the  side  of  Cassander.  The  supporters  of  Poly- 
sperchon were  everywhere  annihilated.  At  last  Olympias 
herself,  after  standing  a  long  siege  in  Pydna,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  her  enemies.  She  was  treated  with  horrible  cruelty, 
being  stoned  to  death  by  the  relatives  of  the  Makedonians 
whom  she  had  executed  (spring  of  315  b.c).  But  it  was  not 
only  on  account  of  her  crimes  and  deeds  of  violence  that  she 
died :  in  her  the  race  of  the  Makedonian  kings  came  to  an 
end.  Hers  was  a  tragic  fate,  for  by  furthering  the  enter- 
prises of  her  son  she  created  circumstances  which  led  to  her 
own  destruction. 

In  the  first  movements  of  the  Makedonians  on  behalf  of 
their  hereditary  royal  family  the  two  sons  of  Alexander  the 
Great  were  murdered  one  after  another.  The  one,  Alexan- 
der ^gus,  whose  mother  was  Roxana,  was  the  boy  for  whom 
the  monarchy  was  at  one  time  destined  ;  the  other,  named 
Heracles,  was  also  of  Persian  descent,  being  the  son  of  a 
daughter  of  Artabazus,  Memnon's  widow.  A  like  fate  befell 
Cleopatra,  the  widowed  sister  of  Alexander,  the  last  repre- 
sentative of  the  royal  house.  The  chief  generals  had  been 
rivals  for  her  hand,  because  the  Makedonians  clung  to  their 
veneration  for  the  hereditary  royal  family.  So  far  as  can  be 
made  out  she  inclined  to  Ptolemseus  the  son  of  Lagus,  who 
ruled  in  Egypt,  but  she  thereby  aroused  the  hatred  of  An- 

*  According  to  Diodorus  (xix.  11)  Arrhidaeus  was  king  for  six  years 
and  foul'  months:  his  death  therefore  occurred  in  the  autumn  of  317  b.c. 


452  THE  DIADOCHI. 

tigonus,  who  compassed  her  murder — so  at  least  was  said — 
by  means  of  her  female  slaves. 

Ill  her  perished  the  last  of  those  who  could  base  a  claim  to 
the  throne  on  the  ground  of  descent.  The  only  question  now 
was  whether  any  of  the  chief  generals  could  maintain  a  su- 
premacy over  the  rest.  This  claim  was  put  forward  by  An- 
tigonus,  whom  Antipater  had  named  Strategus  of  Asia  against 
Eumenes.  The  rest,  however,  refused  to  acknowledge  him 
as  supreme,  and  war  was  tlierefore  inevitable.  Ptolemseus 
the  son  of  Lagus,  the  ruler  of  Egypt,  was  most  decided  in  re- 
jecting such  a  supremacy.  In  order  to  maintain  his  father's 
claim,  Demetrius  Poliorketes,  the  son  of  Antigonus,  brought 
a  numerous  army,  provided  with  Indian  elephants,  into  the 
field.  In  the  year  312  b.c.  a  decisive  battle  took  place  at 
Gaza,  in  which  Demetrius  met  with  a  repulse.  This  battle 
established  the  independence  of  Egypt. 

At  the  same  time  a  general  change  of  ideas  began  to  show 
itself.  Demetrius  and  Ptolemseus  rivalled  each  other  in  their 
lust  for  fame  and  territory,  but  this  very  rivalry  involved 
some  sort  of  mutual  recognition.  The  conflict  appeared  to 
them  a  kind  of  civil  war,  but  the  prizes  to  be  gained  in  this 
war  were  vast  provinces  which  aimed  at  becoming,  and  might 
become,  kingdoms  in  themselves.  Cassander  took  up  a  po- 
sition similar  to  that  of  Ptolemjeus,  and  championed  similar 
interests.  Demetrius,  defeated  by  land,  but  still  maintaining 
his  supremacy  at  sea,  now  set  sail  for  Greece.  Here  lie  got 
the  better  of  Cassander,  in  spite  of  the  assistance  from  Egypt 
which  the  latter  enjoyed.  He  next  turned  his  forces  against 
the  fleet  of  Ptolemaeus,  which  lay  off  Cyprus.  A  battle  took 
place,  not  less  important  than  that  of  Gaza,  but  with  a  differ- 
ent issue.  Ptolemaeus  had  one  hundred  and  fifty  ships,  which 
in  case  of  need  could  be  strengthened  by  si.xty  more  from  Sa- 
lamis.  Against  this  auxiliary  squadron  Demetrius  despatched 
only  ten  ships,  but  his  line  of  battle  was  stronger  by  thirty  ships 
than  that  of  the  enemy ."^^  This  superiority  of  force  enabled  him 
to  inflict  a  severe  defeat  upon  Ptolemaeus.    The  latter  escaped 

♦  Plutarch, "  Demetrius,"  chap.  10.  Slightly  different  numbers  arc 
given  by  Diodorus  (xx.  47, 49). 


DEMETRIUS  AND  ANTIGONUS.  453 

with  difficulty,  accompanied  only  by  eight  ships,  while  seven- 
ty fell  into  the  hands  of  Demetrius  (spring  of  306  b.c). 

The  victorious  general  won  much  credit  for  moderation  and 
generosity.  He  provided  his  fallen  enemies  with  a  splendid 
funeral,  and  presented  the  Athenians  with  twelve  hundred 
complete  snits  of  armor;  for  he  consistently  aimed  at  rendering 
himself  famous  for  magnanimity.  But  the  battle  had  very  un- 
expected results.  Immediately  after  the  event  Demetrius  in- 
trusted one  Aristodemus,  a  confidential  friend  of  his  family, 
who  had  already  been  active  in  furthering  their  interests  in 
Greece,  with  the  duty  of  bringing  the  news  to  his  father,  who 
at  the  time  was  living  at  Antigoneia.  Before  any  one  had 
heard  of  the  victory  Aristodemus  stopped  his  ship  at  some 
distance  from  the  land,  and  went  ashore  in  a  small  boat  by 
himself.  He  refused  to  answer  any  questions  till  he  reached 
the  palace.  Antigonus,  extremely  eager  to  hear  the  news, 
came  out  to  meet  him  at  his  door,  while  the  people  stood  in 
crowds  around.  Then  Aristodemus  with  a  loud  voice  ex- 
claimed, "  O  King  Antigonus,  we  have  won  the  victory ; 
Cyprus  is  ours."  This  address  may  be  said  to  have  inaugu- 
rated a  new  era.  The  title  of  king,  uttered  by  Aristodemus, 
was  taken  up  by  the  people  with  a  shout  of  "  Long  live  King 
Antigonus  !"  and  was  accepted  by  Antigonus  himself,  who  at 
the  same  time  conferred  the  title  on  his  son. 

Antigonus  was  a  man  of  imposing  appearance  and  rugged 
exterior,  fond  of  joking  with  his  soldiers,  but  to  others  liard 
of  access  and  domineering.  He  was  careful  to  husband  his 
resources,  and,  through  frequent  success,  had  conceived  a 
high  notion  of  his  power.  It  may  fairly  be  assumed  that  he 
intended  to  revive  the  Makedonian  monarchy,  and  to  insist 
on  universal  submission  to  his  word.  He  had  already  made 
attempts  in  this  direction,  for  the  war  which  he  was  carrying 
on  had  originated  in  his  claim  for  supremacy.  Now  that  he 
had  won  a  great  victory  he  had  no  hesitation  in  assuming  a 
title  which  raised  him  above  all  competitors.  While  claim- 
ing full  independence  for  himself,  he  refused  to  recognize  a 
similar  claim  on  the  part  of  his  opponents,  Ptolemaeus  and 
Cassander.  It  was  not,  however,  likely  that  the  latter  would 
give  way.     They  too  resolved,  one  after  another,  to  assume 


454  THE  DIADOCHI. 

the  royal  title.  This  was  done  in  direct  opposition  to  Antig- 
onus,  who  thought  to  strengthen  his  claim  for  supremacy  by 
taking  the  name  of  king.  The  assumption  of  the  same  title 
by  others  implied  that  they  were  his  equals,  as  absolute  as  he 
was  and  independent  of  his  authority.  Although  Ptolemaeus 
had  lost  Cyprus,  he  was,  nevertheless,  proclaimed  king  in 
Egypt.  The  possession  of  the  mortal  remains  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  which  had  been  handed  over  to  his  keeping  by 
those  who  had  the  care  of  the  funeral  equipage,  seems  to  have 
procured  him  a  sort  of  mysterious  reputation  in  that  country. 
An  attempt  on  the  part  of  Antigonus  to  attack  Ptolemaeus 
in  Egypt  failed  rather  through  unfavorable  weather  and  the 
diflSculties  of  the  climate  than  from  military  causes.  On  the 
other  hand,  Demetrius,  who,  after  his  victory  at  Cyprus,  sailed 
to  Khodes,  encountered  the  most  strenuous  opposition  in  that 
island,  and  was  at  last  compelled  to  recognize  its  neutrality. 

The  resistance  which  Rhodes  and  Egypt  offered  to  Deme- 
trius is  closely  connected  with  the  appearance  of  other  inde- 
pendent states  in  the  midst  of  this  universal  warfare  and 
confusion.  The  most  important  of  these  powers  was  that  of 
Seleucus,  who  ruled  in  Babylon  and  in  Upper  Asia.  Scleucus 
was  one  of  the  younger  companions  of  Alexander,  who  had 
won  his  reputation  mainly  in  the  Indian  campaigns.  On  ac- 
count of  the  share  he  had  taken  in  the  overthrow  of  Per- 
diccas  he  was  raised  by  the  Makedonians  of  Antipater's  party 
to  the  satrapy  of  Babylon.  In  the  conflict  with  Eumenes  he 
took  the  side  of  Antigonus,  but  on  the  conclusion  of  that 
struggle  there  ensued  between  him  and  Antigonus  a  feud 
which  in  its  origin  is  indicative  of  the  general  state  of  affaire. 
Antigonus,  by  virtue  of  his  royal  power,  attempted  to  control 
the  satrap  of  Babylon,  and  demanded  an  account  of  the  reve- 
nues of  his  satrapy.  This  was  refused  by  Seleucus,  on  the 
ground  that  he,  too,  had  been  named  satrap  by  the  Makedo- 
nians, and  was,  therefore,  independent  of  Antigonus.  At  first 
Antigonus  was  too  strong  for  his  opponent.  Seleucus,  un- 
able to  hold  his  ground,  took  to  fliglit  with  a  body  of  faith- 
ful followers,  and  found  refuge  with  Ptolemreus,  who  had  the 
reputation  of  giving  ready  help  to  his  friends  in  need. 

Seleucus  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  earlier  conflicts  be- 


SANDROCOTTUS.  455 

tween  Antigonus  and  Ptolemaeus,  and  especially  in  the  battle 
of  Gaza,  which  secured  the  independence  of  Egypt.  In  con- 
sequence of  this  battle  Seleucus  was  enabled  to  return  to 
Babylon.  That  Antigonus  had  never  made  good  his  footing 
in  that  city  is  shown  by  the  attitude  of  the  Chaldaeans,  who 
informed  him  that  he  must  secure  the  person  of  Seleucus  if 
he  was  to  escape  destruction  at  his  hands.  Seleucus  was  wel- 
comed back  to  Babylon.  It  is  a  matter  of  great  importance 
that  it  was  in  these  centres  of  the  most  ancient  and  peculiar 
civilization,  such  as  Egypt  and  Babylon,  that  the  Makedonian 
generals  first  succeeded  in  establishing  governments  which 
awoke  territorial  sympathies  and  gave  birth  to  new  kingdoms. 
Seleucus  established  an  independent  authority  in  the  interior 
of  Asia.  This  success  was  principally  due  to  the  fact  that  he 
entered  into  a  sort  of  partnership  with  an  Indian  ruler  named 
Sandrocottus. 

In  the  rise  of  Sandrocottus  there  are  to  be  seen,  if  I  mis- 
take not,  traces  of  national  and  religious  influences.  A  Bud- 
dhist tradition  is  extant  according  to  which  Sandrocottus* 
was  persuaded  by  the  Brahmins  to  make  himself  master  of 
the  kingdom  of  the  Prasii,  which  Alexander  had  threatened 
but  had  not  actually  attacked.  This  was  the  origin  of  the  king- 
dom of  Palimbothra.  Seleucus  was  not  in  a  position  to  over- 
throw this  power,  and  was  content  to  make  a  treaty  with  Sandro- 
cottus, in  accordance  with  which  five  hundred  elephants  were 
placed  at  his  disposal.  These  animals  henceforward  formed 
the  nucleus  of  the  force  with  which  Seleucus  subdued  the 
inland  provinces  of  Asia.  Against  a  combination  between 
Babylon  and  India,  and  in  the  face  of  the  allied  Indian  and 
Grseco-Makedonian  forces,  Persia  was  unable  again  to  raise 
her  head.  In  addition  to  these  successes  other  circumstances 
enabled  Seleucus  to  interfere  actively  in  the  disputes  which 
disturbed  the  provinces  of  Asia  Minor.  The  most  important 
cause  of  the  struggle  which  broke  out  in  those  districts  was 
the  following : 

Lysimachus,  who  had  reduced  the  inhabitants  of  his  Thra- 


*  In  Indian  tradition  he  appears  as  Sandragupta  (Lassen, "  Indische 
Altertliumskunde,"  ii.  pp.  200  sq.). 


456  THE  DIADOCHI. 

cian  satrapy  to  a  greater  degree  of  subjection  than  Philip  or 
even  Alexander,  had,  like  other  satraps,  raised  himself  to  a 
position  of  independence.  He  refused  to  submit  to  Antigo- 
nus,  and  assumed  the  royal  title.  The  same  course  of  action 
was  pursued  in  Makedonia  by  Cassander,  whose  effigy  appears 
on  his  coins  as  king,  although  it  is  probable  that  in  documents 
he  did  not  use  the  royal  style.  It  was  natural  that  a  sort  of 
league  should  be  established  between  Seleucus,  Lysimachus,  and 
Cassander  against  the  prerogative  which  Antigonus  claimed, 
and  which  the  Ptolemies  also  refused  to  recognize.  Antigo- 
nus set  himself  first  of  all  to  subdue  Cassander  in  Makedonia. 
In  this  attempt  he  principally  relied  on  the  activity  and  talent 
of  his  son  Demetrius.  With  the  latter  he  was  always  on  good 
terms,  and  was  glad  that  the  world  should  know  it. 

Demetrius,  like  his  father,  was  a  man  of  imposing  presence. 
Though  not  quite  equal  to  Antigonus  in  stature,  he  combined 
a  grace  and  beauty  of  his  own  with  the  awe-inspiring  and 
dignified  appearance  which  he  inherited  from  the  latter,  and 
the  haughty  expression  of  his  countenance  was  softened  by 
an  air  of  princely  magnanimity.  He  was  fond  of  societ}'',  and 
delighted  in  feasting  with  his  comrades,  but  this  did  not  ren- 
der him  less  attentive  to  more  serious  employment.  He  had 
a  leaning  towards  Greek  culture,  and  was  even  ambitions  of 
being  initiated  into  the  Mysteries.  The  Athenians  revered 
him  as  a  god. 

Demetrius,  by  promising  freedom  to  the  Greeks,  became 
involved  in  new  hostilities  with  Cassander.  In  this  conflict 
he  maintained  his  superiority;  he  not  only  wrested  from  Cas- 
sander his  dominions  in  Greece,  but  threatened  liim  in  Make- 
donia. Cassander  began  to  think  it  advisable  to  open  friendly 
negotiations  with  Antigonus.  The  latter,  however,  rejected 
all  efforts  at  reconciliation  in  which  any  conditions  were  of- 
fered. Indignant  at  this  treatment,  Cassander  sought  help 
of  Lysimachus,  to  whom  the  independence  of  Makedonia  was 
indispensable  for  the  maintenance  of  his  own  position  in 
Thrace.  At  the  same  time  he  applied  to  the  two  new  mon- 
archs,  Ptolemaeus  and  Seleucus,  who  liad  already  made  them- 
selves independent.  The  four  kings  combined  their  forces 
against  the  fifth,  who  laid  claim  to  a  universal  supremacy. 


BATTLE  OP  IPSUS.  457 

At  Ipsus,  in  Phrygia,  the  armies  came  into  collision,  in  the 
Bummer  of  the  year  301.  Antigonus  had  at  first  spoken  of 
his  enemies  with  contempt,  as  a  flock  of  birds  whom  he  would 
disperse  with  a  single  stone;  but  he  could  not  fail  to  be  im- 
pressed by  the  combination  which  Lysimachus  and  Seleucus 
effected  on  the  banks  of  the  Halys.  His  enemies  brought  a 
force  into  the  field  which,  though  not  more  numerous  than 
his  own,  possessed  an  undoubted  superiority  in  the  elephants 
which  accompanied  Seleucus.  In  the  warfare  of  the  time 
elephants  formed  a  very  formidable  and  effective  arm.  An- 
tigonus possessed  seventy-five  of  these  animals,  but  Seleucus 
brought  four  hundred  into  the  field.  This  fact  alone  seems 
to  have  produced  in  the  camp  of  Antigonus  a  presentiment  of 
coming  misfortune.  Indeed,  Antigonus  himself,  who  on  all 
previous  occasions  felt  certain  of  succesb,  is  said  to  have  called 
upon  the  gods  either  to  grant  him  victory  or  save  him  by  a 
speedy  death  from  the  disgrace  of  defeat.  At  the  first  col- 
lision the  cavalry  of  Demetrius  were  successful,  but  their  vic- 
tory was  rendered  useless  by  the  rashness  of  their  leader,  who 
pressed  on  too  far  in  the  pursuit.  The  soldiers  of  the  phalanx 
did  not  venture  to  close  with  the  elephants.  If  their  enemy 
was  no  Forus,  their  leader  was  no  Alexander,  and  they  were 
not  prepared  to  risk  everything  in  order  to  protect  Antigonus 
against  the  other  captains  of  the  Makedonian  army.  Accord- 
ingly, when  Seleucus  summoned  the  phalanx  to  come  over  to 
his  side,  a  large  body  obeyed  his  invitation.  Antigonus  in 
vain  awaited  his  son's  return  ;  before  the  latter  came  back 
from  the  pursuit  in  which  he  was  engaged,  his  father  was  killed 
by  a  javelin.  He  was  already  more  than  eighty  years  old. 
Demetrius  withdrew  to  his  fleet,  upon  which  alone  he  could 
now  place  reliance. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  remark  that  the  battle  of  Ipsus 
was  not  decided  by  any  real  conflict  between  the  Makedonian 
forces  in  either  army,  but  by  a  portion  of  one  army  changing 
sides.  The  unity  of  the  Makedonian  forces  was  still  to  some 
extent  maintained.  The  battle  of  Ipsus  bears  great  resem- 
blance to  the  events  that  had  lately  taken  place  on  the  Nile. 
In  that  conflict  the  first  man  who,  after  the  death  of  Alexan- 
der, had  laid  claim  to  universal  authority  succumbed,  while  at 


458  THE  DIa!dOCHL 

Ipsus  the  second  claimant,  who  believed  himself  entitled  to 
exercise  a  similar  if  less  extensive  authority,  was  overthrown 
and  set  aside.  That  event  decided  that  henceforward  the 
military  raonarchs  were  to  be  on  an  equality.  But  at  the  same 
moment  another  question,  rather  provincial  than  universal  in 
its  nature,  was  raised  by  the  dissolution  of  the  kingdom  of 
Autigonus  and  the  division  of  his  territory  among  the  victors. 
Seleucus  enlarged  his  dominions  in  Western  Asia  by  the  ad- 
dition of  Mesopotamia,  Armenia,  and  Syria  as  far  as  the  Eu- 
phrates, while  Ptolemseus  established  himself  in  possession  of 
Kcele-Syria.  In  this  manner  two  new  empires  of  wide  extent 
and  established  authority  came  into  existence. 

While  these  incidents  ushered  in  a  new  state  of  things  in 
the  East,  events  in  Europe  were  following  a  different,  and  in- 
deed opposite,  course.  In  the  East  the  power  of  Antigonus 
was  destroyed ;  in  the  West  his  descendants  obtained  posses- 
sion of  the  throne  of  Makedonia.  Let  us  endeavor  to  explain 
in  a  few  words  how  this  took  place. 

Demetrius  Poliorketes,  who  had  already  won  the  greatest 
reputation  among  the  military  commanders  of  his  day,  held 
his  ground  in  Cyprus  and  on  the  neighboring  coasts  of  Cilicia 
and  Phoenicia.  But  he  could  have  had  no  intention  of  look- 
ing farther  eastward.  The  element  on  which  he  possessed 
real  power  was  the  sea,  and  his  interests  called  him  to  Greece, 
where  a  short  time  before  he  had  been  raised  to  the  position 
of  Strategus.  He  had  indeed  to  experience  a  diminution  of 
authority  in  Greece,  owing  to  the  issue  of  the  battle  of  Ipsus, 
for  Athens,  at  whose  hands,  as  he  justly  declared,  he  deserved 
better  treatment,  deserted  his  cause,  and  other  cities  followed 
her  example.  But  their  desertion  only  heightened  the  ambi- 
tion of  Demetrius,  who  now  had  some  appearance  of  right  on 
his  side ;  be  therefore  turned  liis  forces  against  Athens.  That 
city  found  support  in  the  kings  of  Thrace,  Makedonia,  and 
Egypt.  It  was  a  question  of  universal  interest  whether  De- 
metrius would  overpower  Athens  or  not. 

Demetrius  was  aided  by  the  excesses  of  the  democracy, 
which  in  Athens  exercised  a  sort  of  tyranny.  While  the 
strength  of  the  city  was  wasted  in  violent  internal  feuds,  be 
used  his  navy  with  such  effect  that  an  Egyptian  squadron  sent 


GENEROSITY  OF  DEMETRIUS.  459 

to  aid  the  Athenians  could  gain  no  advantage  over  him.  He 
then  proceeded  to  cut  off  the  Athenian  supplies,  so  that  the 
inhabitants,  wasted  by  internal  strife  and  piqched  by  famine, 
were  forced  to  submit.  Every  one  has  heard  how  Demetrius 
assembled  the  people  in  the  theatre,  and  instead  of  inflicting 
upon  them  the  penalties  which  appeared  imminent — for  they 
were  completely  surrounded  by  the  victorious  army  —  gave 
them  a  free  pardon,  restored  their  liberties,  and  made  them  a 
welcome  present  of  provisions.  It  was,  in  great  measure,  to 
the  glory  of  her  literature  that  Athens  owed  her  escape  on 
this  occasion,  for  Demetrius  was  by  nature  susceptible  to  in- 
fluences of  this  kind,  and  was  eager  to  be  credited  with  gen- 
erosity. 

After  this  success  Demetrius  thought  comparatively  little 
of  losing  the  remainder  of  his  father's  dominions  in  Asia, 
which  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  neighbors,  for  a  new  field  was 
now  open  for  his  activity.  Cassander,  King  of  Makedonia, 
was  lately  dead,*  and  among  his  sons  there  was  no  one  to  take 
his  place.  Tlie  eldest  of  them,  who  succeeded  his  father,  died 
young,  and  his  brothers  were  soon  at  open  war  over  his  in- 
heritance. The  struggle  for  power  has  never  caused  more 
horrible  crimes  than  in  the  period  with  which  we  are  now 
dealing,  and  the  most  horrible  of  all  was  committed  by  the 
elder  of  the  surviving  sons  of  Cassander.  He  put  his  mother 
to  death  because  he  believed  that  she  gave  the  preference  to 
his  younger  brother,  Alexander — an  act  which  has  involved 
him  in  eternal  infamy.  The  younger  son,  Alexander,  was  of 
a  vacillating  character,  and  subject  to  extraneous  influence. 
It  is  therefore  not  surprising  that  the  Makedonians  turned 
their  eyes  to  Demetrius,  who  was  son-in-law  of  the  elder  An- 
tipater,  and  of  whose  temperate  conduct  they  preserved  a  fa- 
vorable recollection. 

Demetrius  caused  Alexander  to  be  put  to  death  at  a  fes- 
tival in  Larissa.  The  Makedonian  troops  who  accompanied 
him  went  over  to  Demetrius,  and  the  latter  followed  him  to 
Makedonia,  where  he  found  a  favorable  reception,  especially 

*  According  to  Porpliyrius,  in  01. 120, 4 ;  according  to  Eusebius,  in  01. 
120,  3  (Nicbuhr, "  Kleine  Hist,  und  Philol.  Schriften,  p.  223),  b.c.  297. 


460  THE  DIADOCHI. 

as  he  broiiglit  with  him  his  son,  Antigonus  Gonatas,  the 
grandson  of  Antipater,  who  was  to  be  his  heir.  Encouraged 
by  this  success,  he  formed  the  plan  of  passing  over  again  into 
Asia  and  reviving  his  father's  dominions  in  that  quarter.  But 
while  preparing  to  carry  out  this  intention  he  was  deserted 
by  the  troops  whom  he  had  collected  for  the  purpose.  These 
troops  had  been  willing  enough  to  make  Demetrius  master  of 
Makedonia,  for  in  so  doing  they  had  run  no  great  risk ;  but 
to  accompany  him  to  Asia  and  to  restore  to  him  his  father's 
power  would  of  necessity  involve  a  sanguinary  contest  with 
other  troops  who  themselves  belonged  to  the  Makedonian 
army.  Such  an  undertaking  was  therefore  by  no  means  to 
their  taste.  The  events  which  had  occurred  on  the  Nile  and 
on  the  field  of  Ipsus  were  repeated  a  third  time  on  this  occa- 
sion. The  Makedonians  refused  to  serve  a  prince  who  at- 
tempted to  entangle  them  in  a  dangerous  struggle,  in  which 
only  his  personal  interests  were  involved. 

It  was  clear,  then,  that  the  military  power  gave  up  the  at- 
tempt to  combine  the  conquests  of  Alexander  into  one  united 
empire.  It  acquiesced  in  the  necessity  of  a  partition  of  terri- 
tory, in  itself  of  very  extensive  nature,  and  continually  in- 
volving fresh  diflSculties.  Lysimachus  had  lately  established 
a  kingdom  in  Thrace,  which  included  a  portion  of  Asia  Mi- 
nor. The  continued  existence  of  this  kingdom  was  perhaps 
desirable  in  order  that  resistance  might  be  made  to  the  neigh- 
boring barbarian  races,  not  so  much  to  those  of  Scythian  as 
to  those  of  Keltic  origin.  But  the  Thracian  kingdom  could 
not  establish  itself  on  a  firm  basis.  On  one  of  its  bordere  it 
was  constantly  exposed  to  attacks  from  Makedonia,  against 
which,  however,  Lysimachus  was  able  to  defend  himself. 
Demetrius  followed  a  rash  and  adventurous  policy.  By  at- 
tempting at  one  and  the  same  time  to  maintain  liimself  in 
Makedonia  and  Greece,  to  conquer  Thrace,  and  to  attack  Asia, 
lie  became  involved  in  hostilities  with  Seleucus.  In  the 
course  of  these  hostilities  ho  fell  into  the  hands  of  that  prince, 
and  died  in  prison  (283  b.c). 

Successful  against  Demetrius,  Lysimachus  quarrelled  with 
Solencns.  The  two  princes  had  combined  against  Antigonus 
and  his  son,  but  when  there  was  nothing  more  to  fear  from 


ANTIGONUS  GONATAS.  461 

these  opponents  they  fell  out  with  each  other.  They  were 
the  two  last  living  companions  of  Alexander  the  Great,  but  in 
spite  of  this  and  of  their  advanced  age  these  generals  trans- 
formed into  kings  were  animated  by  a  restless  craving  for 
the  exclusive  possession  of  a  supreme  power  which  had  no 
legitimate  representative,  a  craving  which  led  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  their  families  and  continually  embittered  their  mutual 
relations.  As  the  Makedonian  prince  alluded  to  above  made 
away  with  his  mother,  so  Lysimachus  put  to  death  his  son  as 
soon  as  he  appeared  to  become  dangerous.  The  friends  and 
supporters  of  the  latter  took  refuge  with  Seleucus,  whereupon 
war  broke  out  between  the  two  kings.  At  the  very  first  col- 
lision with  Seleucus,  Lysimachus  succumbed.*  His  power 
melted  away  and  his  kingdom  disappeared. 

Above  the  ruins  of  the  kingdom  of  Thrace  the  kingdom 
of  Makedonia  maintained  its  footing,  or,  rather,  we  may  say, 
was  established  anew.  In  the  universal  confusion  known  as 
the  time  of  the  anarchy,  Antigonus  Gonatas,  son  of  Deme- 
trius and  grandson  of  Antipater,  succeeded  to  the  throne  of 
Makedonia  (270  b.c).  Here,  too,  the  authority  of  the  ancient 
kings  came  into  the  hands  of  a  race  whose  founder  was 
one  of  Alexander's  generals.  The  government  of  Antigonus 
Gonatas  forms  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  his  country.  He 
maintained  the  influence  of  Makedonia  in  Greece,  but  re- 
spected the  independence  of  the  latter.  He  kept  up  a  stub- 
born contest  with  the  Northern  barbarians,  and  at  the  same 
time  came  into  contact  with  the  Western  powers,  wlio  were 
struggling  with  each  other  for  the  possession  of  Italy.  We 
shall  come  upon  this  kingdom  by  and  by  in  a  different  con- 
nection, but  our  present  object  is  to  trace  the  history  of  the 
two  other  kingdoms  which  followed  the  path  that  Alexander 
had  opened  to  them.  Their  development  is  one  of  the  most 
splendid  episodes  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

Among  the  great  names  of  antiquity,  that  of  Seleucus  Nica- 

*  This  is  the  battle  spoken  of  by  Porphyrius,  "  ^v  ry  irc/oi  Kopov  irtUov 
fiaxg  "  ("  Fragm.  Hist.  Graec."  ed.  Mliller,  iii.  638).  It  took  place  in  the 
summer  of  281  b.c.  (Clinton,  "Fasti  Hell."  ii.  append.  4,  p.  235).  Ap- 
pian  places  it  near  the  Hellespont  ("  Syriake,"  chap.  62, "  ntpi  ^pvyiav  rj]v 


462  THE  DIADOCHL 

tor  is  conspicuous,  as  a  star  of  the  second  magnitude,  indeed,^ 
but  of  the  most  brilliant  lustre.  His  history,  like  the  histo- 
ries of  Cyrus  and  Komulus,  is  enveloped  in  legend,  a  proof, 
at  any  rate,  of  the  importance  attached  to  him  by  his  contem- 
poraries. To  him  we  must  ascribe  a  decisive  share  in  most 
of  the  great  military  events  of  the  epoch.  He  had  originally 
divided  Asia  Minor  with  Lysimachus,  but,  in  consequence  of 
the  battle  alluded  to  above,  the  latter's  share  was  added  to  his 
own.  His  dominions  thus  extended  from  the  Hellespont  to 
the  Indus,  and  it  was  chiefly  through  him  that  the  Grasco- 
Makedonian  power  in  Asia  became  firmly  established.  The 
power  of  the  Persian  empire,  maintained  by  depriving  the 
subject  races  of  independent  armaments,  prepared  the  way 
for  the  supremacy  of  the  Greeks  and  Makedonians.  Alexan- 
der showed  tact  in  announcing  that  he  intended  to  free  the 
Asiatic  peoples  from  the  Persian  yoke ;  for  the  only  real 
resistance  which  he  experienced  from  the  populations  with 
which  he  came  into  contact  was  in  Tyre  and  on  the  Indus. 
Nevertheless,  this  dominion  was  by  no  means  secure  when  it 
came  into  the  hands  of  Perdiccas.  It  might,  indeed,  have 
been  expected  that  it  would  have  been  weakened  by  the  mu- 
tual rivalries  of  the  commanders;  but,  as  we  have  already 
remarked,  their  conflicts  were  never  very  sanguinary.  The 
Makedonian  army  avoided  what,  at  a  later  epoch  of  the 
world's  history,  was  of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  Prankish 
army,  with  which  it  had  much  resemblance.  A  serious  strug- 
gle between  two  portions  of  the  former  body  never  took  place. 
If  these  portions  agreed  to  separate,  a  compensation  was  to  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  this  severance  enabled  them  better  to 
consolidate  their  respective  dominions. 

The  dominion  of  Seleucus  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  a  con- 
tinuation of  that  of  Alexander  or  of  the  Persian  empire,  for 
its  true  centre  was  at  Babylon  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  rather 
a  revival  of  the  Assyrio-Babylonian  empire,  which,  by  the  aid 
of  the  Grseco-Makedonian  army,  freed  itself  from  the  grasp 
of  the  Medes  and  Persians.  The  Magi  were,  so  to  speak,  ex- 
pelled by  the  Chaldoeans.  Bel,  the  god  of  Babel,  attained  in 
Selenkeia,  the  capital  of  Seleucus,  to  a  religious  influence  over 
the  interior  of  Asia  which  in  earlier  times  he  had  never  en- 


THE  ASSYRIO-BABYLONIAN  EMPIRE.  463 

joyed.  In  Media,  if  not  in  Persia,  colonies  of  no  small  im- 
portance, sent  out  by  the  new  monarch,  are  to  be  found. 

In  spite  of  the  independence  of  Sandrocottus,  the  connec- 
tion with  India,  as  is  proved  by  the  coins  of  Grecian  work- 
manship which  are  found  in  those  regions,*  was  maintained. 
In  other  districts,  as  under  Alexander,  a  certain  fusion  of  the 
Oriental  and  Makedonian  civilizations  took  place.  In  Arme- 
nia a  Persian  named  Orontes  had  established  his  power,  and 
as  early  as  the  middle  of  the  third  century  we  find,  from  the 
evidence  of  a  coin,  that  a  king  named  Arsames  was  reigning 
in  that  country.  Cappadocia  was  ruled  by  Ariarathes,  who 
claimed  descent  from  an  intimate  friend  of  Darius.  In  the 
second  century  we  find  in  this  country  a  king  of  Greek  cult- 
ure named  Ariarathes  the  Fifth.  The  kings  of  Pontus,  who 
bore  the  title  of  Mithridates,  and  were  recognized  by  the  suc- 
cessors of  Alexander  as  early  as  the  year  300,  declared  them- 
selves to  be  descendants  of  a  Persian  grandee  named  Arta- 
bazus,  of  the  time  of  Darius  Hystaspis.  From  an  early  date 
they  paid  attention  to  Greek  culture,  and  one  of  them  is  de- 
scribed as  an  admirer  of  Plato.  In  the  northwestern  table- 
land of  Media  a  portion  of  the  old  Persian  empire  survived. 
After  the  fall  of  that  empire  Atropates  remained  as  satrap  in 
this  region,  and  his  name  lived  on  for  many  centuries  in  the 
name  of  the  territory  over  which  he  ruled.  Swarms  of  ma- 
rauders often  issued  from  this  country  by  the  passes  near  the 
Caspian  Sea,  and  traversed  the  dominions  of  Seleucus  as  far 
as  Ecbatana ;  and  the  connection  between  the  Caspian  and 
Black  seas,  which  Seleucus  attempted  to  maintain,  was  fre- 
quently interrupted. 

Of  the  hostilities  between  Media  and  Syria,  which,  accord- 
ing to  Strabo,  led  to  the  revolt  of  Bactria  and  Parthia,  we. 
have  only  vague  and  fragmentary  information.  In  the  terri- 
tory of  Bactria,  the  home  of  an  ancient  civilization,  the  Greek 
dominion  maintained  itself,  though  not  always  under  the  su- 

*  Among  the  Bactrian  coins  of  Greek  stamp  are  to  be  found  some 
whicTi  bear  the  name  of  Antiochus  II.  of  Syria.  They  appear  to  belong 
to  the  time  when  Diodotus  made  himself  independent,  but  still  recog- 
nized the  king  of  the  Syrians  (see  Von  Danenberg  in  Von  Sybel's  "  Hist. 
Zeitschrift"  [18T9],p.  491). 


464:  THE  DIADOCHI. 

premacy  of  the  Syrian  monarchs.  So  early  as  the  middle  of 
the  third  century  there  appear  independent  rulers  of  Greek 
origin,  such  as  Diodotus.  His  family  was  driven  out  by  Eu- 
thydemus,  whose  son  Demetrius  appears  as  king  of  the 
Indians.  The  Greeks  had  established  themselves  firmly  in 
Bactria,  and  thence  extended  their  power  to  India.  Histori- 
cal research  is  acquainted  with  these  kings  only  through  their 
coins,  from  which  it  is  ascertained  that  they  were  frequently 
at  war  with  one  another.  As  representatives  of  Greek  power 
and  culture  in  the  most  distant  regions,  they  deserve  to  escape 
oblivion.  So  far  as  can  be  discovered,  it  was  at  the  moment 
of  their  separation  from  the  Syrian  kingdom  that  the  Parthi- 
ans,  too,  rose  against  the  Seleukidae.  Their  rising  took  place 
under  the  leadership  of  Arsakes,  w^ho  is  described  by  Strabo 
as  a  native  of  Scythia.  The  Parthians  were  a  nation  of  horse- 
men, who,  in  earlier  times,  had  always  assisted  the  Persians, 
but  refused  to  be  kept  in  subjection  by  the  Greeks. 

It  is  evident  from  these  considerations  that  the  Syrian  mon- 
archy was  far  from  ruling  all  that  had  belonged  to  Persia. 
In  reality  its  power  was  confined  to  Mesopotamia,  Babylon, 
Asia  Minor,  and  Syria.  Let  us  take  a  rapid  survey  of  the 
latter.  Syria,  properly  so  called,  contained  four  important 
towns,  two  of  which,  namely,  Antioch  and  Apameia,  were  in 
the  interior.  The  latter  was  the  arsenal  of  the  Seleukidfe, 
and  was  provided  with  a  fortification  on  a  hill,  where  the 
prince  kept  his  stud  of  elephants.  The  other  two  cities  were 
on  the  coast.  One  of  these,  named  Seleukeia,  was  built  on  a 
spur  of  the  Pierian  mountains,  difficult  of  access  on  all  sides 
and  strongly  fortified,  so  as  to  form  a  refuge  in  case  of  need. 
Where  the  rocky  hillside  drops  towards  the  sea  a  harbor  had 
been  made,  around  which  a  seaport  sprang  up,  but  this  sea- 
port was  quite  separate  from  the  city  itself,  which  was  acces- 
sible only  to  foot  passengers,  by  means  of  precipitous  paths. 
The  ruins  of  the  city  are  still  to  be  seen.  Somewhat  farther 
south  we  find  another  fortified  place  with  a  better  harbor, 
named  Laodikeia,  a  city  deriving  great  wealth  from  its  trade 
in  wine.  A  road,  of  incomparable  interest  from  the  variety 
and  cultivation  of  the  districts  through  which  it  passed,  led 
from  Laodikeia  to  Antioch.    These  cities  formed  the  Syrian 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  SYRIA.  465 

Tetrapolis.  Seleucus  named  Antiocli  after  liis  father,  Laodi- 
keia  after  his  mother ;  and  these  two  cities,  founded  by  him- 
self, he  probably  regarded  as  the  most  important  in  his  do- 
minions. Apameia  was  named  after  his  Persian  wife,  Seleu- 
keia  after  himself. 

Seleucus  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  greatest  founders 
of  cities  who  has  ever  lived.  Centuries  afterwards  he  is  cele- 
brated by  Appian  as  a  man  endowed  with  an  energy  and  ac- 
tivity which  always  attained  tlieir  aim,  who  out  of  miserable 
peasants'  huts  created  great  and  flourishing  cities.  A  long 
list  of  cities  founded  by  him  continues  the  tale  of  those  which 
keep  alive  the  recollection  of  Alexander  in  the  Epist.  These 
cities,  however,  must  not  be  reckoned  solely  to  the  credit  of 
Seleucus  and  Alexander.  Their  origin  was  closely  connected 
with  the  main  tendencies  of  Greek  colonization.  The  Greeks 
had  struggled  long  and  often  to  penetrate  into  Asia,  but  so 
long  as  the  Persian  empire  remained  supreme  they  w^ere  en- 
ergetically repulsed,  and  it  was  only  as  mercenaries  that  they 
found  admittance.  This  ban  was  now  removed.  Keleased 
from  all  restrictions  and  attracted  by  the  revolution  in  politi- 
cal affairs,  the  Greeks  now  streamed  into  Asia  Minor,  Syria, 
and  Egypt.  AVe  find  them  everywhere ;  even  Judoea  found 
herself,  on  all  her  frontiers,  exposed  to  the  influence  of  Greek 
culture,  which,  emanating  from  Syria  or  Egypt,  hemmed  her 
in  on  every  side.  The  Jews  profited  by  the  opportunity  thus 
afforded  to  take  part  in  the  general  movement,  but  without 
breaking  the  ties  which  bound  them  to  their  high-priest  and 
to  Jerusalem.  The  kings  of  Syria  granted  them  a  share  in 
the  municipal  administration  of  the  towns,  with  whose  con- 
sent the  Greeks  had  been  introduced,  but  the  Hellenic  ele- 
ment remained  universally  predominant. 

If  we  inquire,  then,  which  are  the  towns  that  owed  their 
origin  to  this  movement  of  the  nations,  we  shall  find  that 
Antioch  had  already  been  founded  by  Antiochns,  who  colo- 
nized it  partly  with  Makedonians,  but  still  more  w'ith  Athe- 
nians. The  orators  praise  the  fertility  of  its  soil  and  the  beauty 
of  its  scenery,  the  mildness  of  its  climate  in  winter,  and  the 
coolness  of  its  summer  breezes.  The  city  was  traversed  by  a 
street  of  unusual   dimensions,  three-quarters  of  a  mile  in 

30 


466  THE  DIADOCHI. 

length,  resembling  those  of  Naples  and  Palermo  in  later  times. 
A  mile  from  the  city  lay  a  grove  sacred  to  Apollo  and  Diana, 
called  Daphne,  where  art  and  nature  combined  to  form  a  re- 
sort of  pleasure  and  debauchery. 

Still  more  splendid  was  the  position  of  Alexandria  in 
Egypt,  the  most  important  of  all  the  foundations  of  Alexan- 
der. The  Ptolemies  maintained  their  supremacy  in  the  Med- 
iterranean. They  conquered  Cyprus  and  made  Ehodes  their 
ally ;  Egyptian  merchants  were  to  be  found  even  in  the  Black 
Sea.  The  close  connection  between  Egyptian  and  Greek  civ- 
ilization which  thus  sprang  up  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  a 
statue  of  the  Stj^gian  Zeus  was  brought  from  Sinope  to  Egypt, 
to  be  worshipped  there  as  the  Serapis-Osiris  of  the  under- 
Avorld.  In  the  internal  disputes  that  raged  among  the  Greeks 
of  the  mother  country  the  Ptolemies  exercised  a  very  strong 
political  influence.  One  of  the  consequences  of  this  probably 
was  that  the  most  ancient  myths  about  the  connection  be- 
tween Egypt  and  Greece  were  now  revived.  But  what  gave 
Egypt  under  the  Ptolemies  a  world-wide  importance,  little  in- 
ferior to  that  which  it  had  enjoyed  under  the  Pharaohs,  was 
the  revival  of  maritime  trade  with  India.  It  was  in  accord- 
ance with  the  position  of  the  Ptolemies  that  this  trade  should 
be  still  further  developed.  At  the  spot  where  the  continents 
of  Africa  and  Asia  are  almost  severed  from  each  other  by  the 
Red  Sea,  the  Ptolemies  created  a  waterway  to  join  the  Med- 
iterranean with  the  Southern  Ocean.  This  had  been  formerly 
attempted  by  Necho,  but  his  canal  had  been  choked  by  sand. 
Kestored  by  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  it  existed  till  the  time  of 
the  Romans.  At  the  same  time  the  Eed  Sea  was  swept  clear 
of  Arabian  pirates,  so  that  trade  with  India  could  again  be 
conducted  with  safety.  The  merchandise,  which  came  from 
the  farthest  East  as  well  as  from  Arabia  and  Ethiopia,  was 
brought  to  the  harbor  of  Alexandria,  whence  it  was  distrib- 
uted all  over  the  world. 

By  these  means  Egypt  attained  to  a  condition  of  wealth 
and  prosperity  such  as  it  had  never  yet  enjoyed.  Without 
giving  credit  to  the  exaggerated  statements  which  have  been 
made  respecting  its  population,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that, 
however  populous  the  more  ancient  centres  of  industry  may 


ALEXANDRIA.  467 

have  been,  they  were  far  exceeded  by  those  of  Egypt  under 
the  Ptolemies.  We  need  not  inquire  deeply  into  the  statis- 
tics of  the  Egyptian  treasury,  which  is  said  to  have  contained 
74,000  talents ;  for  even  if  these  were  only  talents  of  copper, 
the  quantity  of  money  must  have  been  very  considerable. 
The  armed  force  of  the  nation  was  estimated  at  3500  ships 
of  war  and  an  army  of  240,000  men.  This  army,  owing  to 
the  fact  that  it  originally  consisted  of  Makedonian  troops, 
always  maintained  a  certain  amount  of  independence.  The 
prince  ascended  the  throne  only  after  the  troops  had  acknowl- 
edged him  as  king.  This  dual  control  was  not  incompatible 
witli  an  equality  of  civic  rights.  The  different  national  ele- 
ments, Egyptian  and  Greek,  which  co-existed  in  the  cities, 
and  to  which  in  Alexandria  we  must  add  the  Jews,  were 
placed  on  an  equality  in  point  of  citizenship.  If  the  great 
movements  of  the  time  rendered  it  less  important  to  set  up 
a  new  empire  in  the  place  of  the  old  than  to  bring  into  har- 
mony the  different  national  elements,  often  hostile  to  each 
other,  this  object  was  nowhere  so  fully  attained  as  in  Egypt. 
The  Egyptian  and  Greek  religions  had  a  mutual  attraction 
for  one  another.  The  Hellenistic  Ptolemies  fostered  the 
native  religion,  and  Ptolemy  the  son  of  Lagus  is  said  to  have 
spent  the  sum  of  fifty  talents  in  the  effort  to  discover  the  lost 
bull  Apis.  After  ages  of  obscurity  Egyptian  antiquities  were 
again  brought  to  light.  As  Berosus  connected  Babylonian 
traditions  with  the  house  of  the  Seleukidse,  so  Manetho  re- 
garded the  ancient  dynasties  of  Egypt,  whose  existence  he 
discovered  from  their  monuments,  as  predecessors  of  the 
Ptolemies,  and  held  the  latter  to  be  legitimate  successors  of 
the  ancient  kings.  The  version  of  the  Old  Testament  made 
at  Alexandria,  and  called,  after  the  seventy  translators,  the 
Septuagint,  has  obtained  a  sort  of  sanctity.  In  that  transla- 
tion there  is  no  reference  to  the  present;  the  earliest  times 
are  presented  in  their  unadorned  simplicity. 

But  the  fact  of  the  greatest  importance  for  after  ages  is 
that  Alexandria  became  a  new  metropolis  for  the  develop- 
ment of  Greek  literature  and  learning.  The  immediate  cause 
of  this  lay  in  the  constant  struggle  between  the  great  inter- 
ests and  powers  which  disturbed  and  ravaged  Greece.    Safety 


468  THE  DIADOCHI. 

and  leisure  for  study,  which  had  once  been  looked  for  in 
Makedonia,  were  now  offered  by  Alexandria.  We  must  not, 
indeed,  expect  to  find  in  Alexandria  philosophical  or  poetical 
productions  of  the  first  rank ;  for  this  the  times,  altered  as 
they  were,  were  no  longer  suited.  What  the  Greek  genius 
was  still  capable  of  doing  in  these  branches  was  done  on  the 
soil  of  the  mother  country.  But  in  Alexandria  a  library  was 
created  which  was  intended  to  contain  all  the  monuments  of 
Greek  literature.  Men  appeared  who  possessed  a  talent  for 
universal  learning,  such  as  hitherto  could  not  have  been  man- 
ifested. The  chief  of  these  was  Eratosthenes,  without  doubt 
one  of  the  greatest  librarians  that  has  ever  lived.  His  love 
of  work  amounted  to  a  passion.  AVhen  his  eyes  refused  to 
serve  him,  so  that  he  could  read  no  longer,  he  is  said  to  have 
refused  to  prolong  his  life  and  to  have  starved  himself  to 
death.  The  great  political  position  which  Egypt  held  was 
not  without  influence  in  the  sphere  of  science,  and  gave  a 
new  impulse  to  physical  research.  Eratosthenes  was  the  first 
to  compile,  though  with  insufficient  means,  a  table  of  degrees 
of  latitude  and  longitude.  A  knowledge  of  Oriental  cos- 
mology, especially  of  the  observations  of  the  Chaldseans,  was 
indispensable  for  the  prosecution  of  inquiries  into  the  rela- 
tion of  the  earth  to  the  system  of  which  it  forms  a  part. 
These  inquiries  would,  however,  have  been  impossible  with- 
out the  development  of  mathematical  science.  None  of  the 
triumphs  of  Greek  genius  surpass  the  elaboration  of  the  math- 
ematical method  which  Euclid  brought  to  perfection  in  Alex- 
andria. In  the  same  town  Archimedes  also  studied  for  some 
time.  The  grammatical  sciences  on  the  one  hand,  the  math- 
ematical and  physical  on  the  other,  flourished  in  Alexandria 
side  by  side,  and  formed  a  foundation  for  all  the  later  science 
of  the  world. 


Chapter  XII. 
A  GLANCE  AT  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

The  political  condition  of  the  Eastern  world  depended  on 
the  balance  of  power  between  the  tliree  Graeco-Makedonian 
kingdoms.  But  in  addition  to  them  there  was  another  power, 
of  a  nature  essentially  different,  which  occupied  a  dominant 
position  in  the  West.  So  long  as  the  Greek  nationality  and 
the  Greek  genius  were  excluded  from  the  East,  they  had 
pressed  on  by  means  of  trade  and  warfare  towards  Western 
Europe,  for  forces  once  developed  have  a  constant  tendency 
to  unlimited  extension.  But  in  the  West  they  were  met  by 
the  naval  power  of  Carthage.  There  arose  a  struggle  be- 
tween the  Greek  cities  in  Sicily,  the  chief  of  which  was  Syra- 
cuse, and  the  Carthaginians,  who  strove  without  intermission 
to  maintain  and  to  strengthen  the  position  in  the  island  which 
they  had  already  obtained.  This  struggle  bears  some  analogy 
with  that  between  Makedonia  and  Persia,  with  which  at  one 
time,  as  we  shall  see,  it  was  actually  connected.  Nevertheless 
it  bears  in  reality  quite  a  different  character,  for  it  was  not 
fought  out  between  great  kings,  but  between  two  republics. 
One  of  these — namely,  Carthage — was  of  Semitic  origin^  andL 
manifested  oligarchical  tendencies,  while  the  other,  Syracuse, 
was  closely  connected  with  the  mother  country  of  Greece, 
and  was  under  a  government  in  which  democratic  forms,  now 
and  then  alternating  with  a  tyranny,  preponderated. 

Let  us  in  the  first  place  describe  as  briefly  as  possible  the 
position  of  Carthage.  Strabo  is  the  first  writer  who  remarks 
the  unity  and  compactness  of  those  regions  on  the  shores  of 
the  Mediterranean  which  lie  beyond  the  point  where  the 
western  promontory  of  Sicily  approaches  most  nearly  to  the 
coast  of  Africa.    The  strait,  as  Strabo  calls  it,  is  here  only 


470  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

about  ninety  miles  across.  At  this  spot,  on  the  nortliern 
coast  of  Africa,  the  Tj^ian  colony  of  Carthage  had  established 
a  maritime  empire  of  its  own.  In  the  most  ancient  times  the 
Greeks  tried  in  vain  to  obtain  a  footing  in  Corsica  and  Sar- 
dinia, and  were  obliged  to  give  up  the  attempt.  Cagliari  is  a 
Punic,  that  is  to  say,  a  Carthaginian  colony.  The  island  of 
Malta  or  Melita  received  its  name,  which  means  a  place  of 
refuge,  from  Punic  seamen.  So,  too,  Panormus  is  but  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Punic  name  Am-Machanath,  derived  from  its 
extensive  harbor.  Composed  of  the  same  elements,  and  ani- 
mated by  the  same  impulses  as  Tyre,  Carthage  possessed  this 
advantage  over  its  mother  city,  that  there  were  no  powerful 
states  engaged  in  conflict  in  its  rear.  From  the  Greeks  in 
Kyrene  it  was  separated  by  a  desert  in  which  the  frontier  had 
been  hallowed  by  a  human  sacrifice,  represented  by  tradition 
as  having  been  of  a  voluntary  nature.  The  Libyan  neighbors 
of  Carthage  were  subject  to  no  foreign  influence,  so  that  the 
Carthaginians  were  in  undisputed  possession  of  a  considerable 
territory. 

All  attempts  on  the  part  of  foreigners  to  reach  the  Strait 
of  Gibraltar  by  sea  were  opposed  by  the  Carthaginians  with  a 
jealousy  regardless  of  consequences.  They  sank  all  the  ships 
which  ventured  to  invade  their  domain.  Beyond  the  strait 
they  founded  colonies  both  in  Spain  and  Africa.  Southern 
Spain  was  covered  with  Libyo-Phoenician  settlements,  and 
Tartessus,  a  city  which  had  repelled  Grecian  attacks,  was 
forced  to  recognize  the  supremacy  of  the  Carthaginians.  We 
have  an  account  of  their  voyages  in  a  southern  direction  in 
the  course  of  wliich  they  sailed  round  Cape  Bojador.  Traces 
have  been  found  in  tlieir  histories  of  their  having  reached  the 
coast  of  Senegambia,  where  they  founded  colonies.  The  con- 
nection between  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Atlantic  Ocean 
was  exclusively  in  their  hands.  For  the  maintenance  of  their 
supremacy,  and  for  the  completion  of  their  mercantile  empire, 
the  possession  of  Sicily,  disputed  by  the  Greeks  and  especially 
by  the  Syj'acusans,  was  all -important.  In  order  to  under- 
stand the  general  position  of  the  world  at  this  epoch  it  is  in- 
dispensable that  we  should  take  a  glance,  at  any  rate,  at  the 
leading  cAroatsof  this  struggle. 


HERMOCRATES.  471 

If  the  Athenians  had  succeeded  in  their  attack  on  Syra- 
cuse, the  Carthaginians  would  hardly  have  been  able  to  main- 
tain their  footing  on  the  island.  The  disastrous  issue  of  that 
enterprise  not  only  freed  them  from  their  danger,  but  turned 
out  to  their  advantage.  The  tribes  whom  the  Athenians 
had  summoned  to  their  aid  were  for  some  time  longer  most 
useful  to  the  Carthaginians.  Other  levies,  less  efficient,  but 
still  more  numerous,  were  collected  in  Libya,  Spain,  and  Ita- 
ly by  Hannibal,  grandson  of  that  Ilamilcar  who  had  fallen 
at  Himera,  and  carried  across  by  him  in  the  year  410  to 
Sicily.  At  the  spot  where  he  first  landed,  Lilybaeum,  after- 
wards one  of  the  chief  arsenals  of  the  Carthaginians,  was 
built.  He  took  Selinus,  in  spite  of  a  strenuous  resistance, 
which  continued  even  after  a  breach  had  been  made  in  the 
walls,  and  overcame  the  people  of  Himera.  He  brought  the 
prisoners,  3000  in  number,  to  the  spot  where  his  grandfather 
had  fallen,  and  there  slew  them  all  as  a  horrible  sacrifice  to 
the  hero's  shade. 

Under  pressure  of  the  terror  inspired  by  this  event  the 
Greek  population  showed  nothing  but  weakness.  In  Her- 
mocrates,  indeed,  Syracuse  possessed  a  man  who  might  have 
been  able  to  check  the  progress  of  the  Carthaginians.  He 
had  distinguished  himself  above  all  others  in  the  struggle 
with  Athens,  and  had  afterwards  aided  the  Lakedaemonians 
on  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor.  Thukydides  says  of  him  that  in 
skill  and  courage  he  had  no  superior.  But  it  was  often  the 
case  in  these  republics  that  civil  strife  caused  the  banishment 
of  their  best  citizens,  and  Hermocrates  was  exiled  from  Syra- 
cuse. For  a  time  he  carried  on  war  in  Sicily  on  his  own  ac- 
count. He  partially  restored  Selinus,  and  made  several  not 
unsuccessful  forays  into  Carthaginian  territory.  These  feats 
gained  him  universal  recognition  from  all  but  his  political  en- 
emies. The  latter  had  no  intention  of  recalling  him,  and 
when  he  attempted,  with  the  help  of  his  partisans,  to  force 
his  way  into  the  city,  he  was  struck  down  and  killed  in  the 
market-place  (408-7  b.c).  The  violence  of  party  feeling  in 
this  case,  as  in  others,  stifled  all  respect  for  personal  merit, 
however  great. 

Soon  after  these  events  the  Carthaginians  appeared  again 


472  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

in  Sicily.  Agrigcntum,  the  second  city  of  the  island,  fell 
into  their  hands  after  a  siege  of  seven  months  (November, 
406  B.C.).  The  very  size  of  the  city  and  the  number  of  its 
inhabitants  facilitated  its  reduction  by  famine.  This  event 
inspired  universal  terror  among  the  Sicilian  Greeks.  They 
feared  that  it  would  bo  impossible  for  them  to  hold  out 
against  the  superior  numbers  of  the  Carthaginians,  and  many 
fled  with  their  wives  and  children  into  Italy.  They  felt  no 
further  confidence  in  Syracuse,  for  they  argued  that,  if  the 
Syracusan  generals  had  wished  to  do  so,  they  might  have  saved 
Agrigentum.  It  was  even  supposed  that  the  latter  were  in- 
clined to  favor  the  Carthaginians,  and  perhaps  were  bribed  b}^ 
them.  In  Syracuse  itself  the  panic  caused  by  the  progress  of 
the  Carthaginians  brought  about  a  change  of  constitution, 
and  placed  the  government  in  the  hands  of  a  tyrant.  The 
people  of  Agrigentum  urged  their  complaint  against  the  Syra- 
cusan generals  for  some  time  in  vain,  for  the  reputation  and 
political  influence  of  the  latter  were  so  great  that  no  one  dared 
to  incur  their  enmity.  At  length,  however,  one  of  the  old 
companions  of  Hermocrates,  named  Dionysius,  a  man  of  hum- 
ble birth,  ventured  to  give  expression  to  public  opinion.  In 
his  attempts  he  had  the  support  of  the  historian  Philistus,  a 
wealthy  citizen  of  good  family,  who  promised  to  help  him  with 
money  if  his  enterprise  miscarried.  It  was,  liowever,  com- 
pletely successful,  for  the  people  of  Syracuse  were  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  the  charges,  and  were  fully  awake  to  the  im- 
portance of  the  crisis.  The  result  was  that  the  generals  were 
deprived  of  their  office,  and  Dionysius  with  certain  others 
put  in  their  place.  After  a  short  time,  and  without  much 
trouble,  Dionysius  got  the  supreme  power  into  his  hands. 

At  first,  however,  no  alteration  took  place  in  the  general 
position  of  affairs.  On  the  contrary,  Dionysius  considered  it 
desirable,  for  the  sake  of  his  own  reputation  in  the  city,  to  be 
recognized  by  the  Carthaginians.  He  therefore  concluded  a 
peace,  by  which  the  latter  were  allowed  to  retain  Himera, 
Selinus,  and  Agrigentum.  It  was  also  provided  that  the  mu- 
tual independence  of  all  the  Greeks  who  were  not  subject  to 
the  Carthaginians  should  bo  maintained,  a  proceeding  which 
involved  a  complete  disruption  of  the  Grecian  power.     In 


DIONYSIUS  THE  ELDER.  473 

Dionysius  the  Elder  we  find  a  character  compounded  of  de- 
cision, cunning,  and  violence,  and  endowed  with  a  vigor  and 
activity  which  enabled  him  to  maintain  his  position  in  the 
stormy  ferment  of  a  democratic  community.  If  we  may  be- 
lieve Aristotle,  Dionysius,  like  Peisistratus  before  him,  raised 
himself  to  power  by  arousing  in  the  popular  mind  a  fear  of 
the  aristocracy.  Eeal  virtue,  whicli  is  transparent  in  its  nat- 
ure, is  not  to  be  looked  for  in  such  a  man.  Philistus,  who 
probably  during  the  critical  period  of  his  life  helped  him  with 
good  counsel,  was  afterwards  ill-treated  by  him,  but,  never- 
theless, Dionysius  has  received  more  justice  at  the  hands  of 
Philistus  than  from  any  other  historian. 

Dionysius,  as  soon  as  he  felt  his  power  in  some  degree 
established,  ventured  to  renew  the  war  with  Carthage.  His 
armaments  were  considerable,  but  Syracuse  could  not,  unaid- 
ed, measure  swords  with  Carthage.  Himilco,  who  belonged 
to  the  same  family  as  Hannibal,*  took  the  field  against  Dio- 
nysius with  a  force  undoubtedly  far  superior  to  that  of  the 
Syracusans,  even  if  we  refuse  credit  to  the  statement  of 
Timaeus  that  his  army  numbered  400,000  men.  Dionysius 
did  not  venture  to  fight  a  pitched  battle  in  the  Carthaginian 
territory,  where  he  had  made  great  progress  before  Himilco 
appeared.  He  retreated  to  his  capital,  where  he  was  soon  ex- 
posed to  a  combined  attack  by  land  and  sea  on  the  part  of 
his  successful  and  vindictive  enemy.  The  temple  of  Deme- 
ter,  one  of  the  chief  sanctuaries  of  that  goddess,  was  plun- 
dered, and  the  suburb  of  Achradina  was  taken.  The  besiegers 
made  very  serious  progress,  and  the  enemies  of  Dionysius 
within  the  town  began  to  stir.  A  great  disaster  appeared  im- 
minent, but,  as  had  been  the  case  in  the  Athenian  expedition, 
the  Syracusans  were  saved  by  the  situation  of  their  city  and 
by  a  climate  fatal  to  all  but  natives  of  the  place.  The  tem- 
perature, varying  between  frost  at  night  and  intolerable  heat 
by  day,  combined  with  the  exhalations  of  the  marshy  neigh- 
borhood to  produce  an  infectious  pestilence  in  the  Carthagin- 
ian army.     The  plague — for  such  it  was — made  such  ravages 

*  Hamilcar,  who  died  in  480  B.C.,  had  three  sons,  Himilco,  Hanno,  and 
Gisgo.     Gisgo's  son  was  Hannibal ;  the  son  of  Hanno  was  Himilco. 


474  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

tliat  Himilco  was  forced  to  raise  the  siege  (39G  b.c).  Dionys- 
ius,  however,  refused  to  allow  the  Carthaginians  to  retire  un- 
molested until  they  had  paid  him  a  considerable  sum  of  money. 
The  people  of  Carthage  had  already  heard  of  the  disaster,  and 
on  Himilco's  return  thronged  the  quays  in  a  state  of  painful 
expectation.  Loud  lamentations  broke  forth  when  the  few 
survivors  disembarked,  last  of  all  the  commander  himself, 
without  his  arms  and  in  slave's  attire.  The  first  words  he 
uttered  were  those  of  regret  tliat  he  had  not  himself  perished. 
Loudly  lamenting  his  misfortune,  and  attended  by  a  vast 
crowd,  he  passed  through  the  city  to  his  own  house.  There 
he  dismissed  his  attendants,  and  shutting  the  door  upon  the 
multitude,  without  even  bidding  his  son  farewell,  he  put  an 
end  to  his  life.  In  consequence  of  this  disaster  the  Cartha- 
ginians gave  up  Tauromenium  and  withdrew  within  the  fron- 
tier of  the  Ilalycus.  Although  they  were  still  powerful,  Syra- 
cuse maintained  her  independence  and  greatness ;  and  we  can- 
not but  credit  Dionysius  the  Elder  with  making  active  use 
of  his  power.  He  defeated  the  Illyrian  and  Sardinian  pi- 
rates, as  well  as  the  Italian  Greeks,  and  reigned  with  brilliant 
success  until  his  death  in  the  year  367  b.c. 

His  son  was  not  capable  of  carrying  on  his  system  of 
government,  and  civil  disputes  soon  broke  out  in  Syracuse. 
Dion,  a  near  relation  of  Dionysius,  the  head  of  the  aristocratic 
party,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Plato,  engaged  in  conflict 
with  the  democrats.  In  consequence  of  these  troubles  the 
Carthaginians  became  so  powerful  that  the  Syracusans,  under 
the  combined  pressure  of  civil  and  foreign  war,  at  last  de- 
manded aid  of  their  mother  city,  Corinth.  Help  wjis  brought 
to  them  by  Timoleon,  a  strong  supporter  of  democratic  prin- 
ciples, and  at  the  same  time  a  commander  of  the  first  rank. 
Ho  belonged  to  the  school  of  Iphicrates  and  Chabrias,  and 
was  completely  master  of  the  military  science  which  the 
Greeks  had  brought  to  such  perfection,  and  which  was  ap- 
parent in  the  mercenary  armies  of  the  day.  He  came  to  the 
aid  of  the  Syracusans  with  a  force  of  12,000  men,  and  fought 
a  battle  on  the  Crimissus,  in  which  he  drove  an  army  of 
70,000  Carthaginians  from  the  field  (June,  339  b.c).  Two 
years  later  Timoleon  died. 


TIMOLEON.  475 

It  was  always  the  Greek  democracy  which,  first  of  all  un- 
der the  tyrants,  and  then  under  the  tyrannicides,  of  whom 
Timoleon  himself  was  one,  defended  the  independence  of 
Sicily  against  Carthage.  A  striiving  episode  in  universal  liis- 
tory  is  formed  by  the  conflict  between  these  two  communi- 
ties, composed  of  elements  so  essentially  diverse  and  so  di- 
ametrically opposed  to  one  another — on  the  one  hand  Syra- 
cuse, the  outpost  of  Hellenic  culture  in  the  West,  a  centre  of 
intellectual,  political,  and  commercial  activity,  yet  maintain- 
ing the  most  intimate  connection  with  the  mother  country ; 
and  on  the  other  Carthage,  the  outpost  of  Phoenician  power, 
and  mistress  of  the  seas,  isolated,  independent,  and  myste- 
rious. 

Carthage  was  affected  but  not  injured  by  the  result  of  the 
Persian  wars.  The  fall  of  Tyre  put  an  end  to  the  political, 
and  probably  to  the  commercial,  relations  between  Pha3nicia 
and  its  greatest  colony.  Carthage  stood  in  direct  opposition 
to  Alexander,  who  was  believed,  as  we  have  already  said,  to 
have  contemplated  an  attack  upon  that  city.*  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  say,  if  such  an  attack  had  been  undertaken,  what  would 
have  been  its  result.  The  immediate  successors  of  Alexander 
were  too  fully  occupied  in  conflicts  with  each  other  to  turn 
their  eyes  towards  the  west.  But  just  at  this  time  it  hap- 
pened that  a  power  arose  in  Syracuse  which  renewed  the  war 
with  Carthage  in  such  a  way  as  to  threaten  that  city  with  sud- 
den destruction. 

Among  those  who,  through  Timoleon's  influence,  had  ob- 
tained the  franchise  in  Syracuse  was  an  inhabitant  of  Rhe- 
gium.  His  son,  named  Agathocles,  at  first  followed  his  fa- 
ther's trade  of  potter — that  is,  he  probably  made  the  orna- 
mental vases  and  urns  which  at  that  time  were  so  much  in 
request  for  sepulchral  use  in  Italy  and  Etruria.  Afterwards 
he  became  a  soldier  and  rose  to  a  high  position.  He  was  a 
young  man  in  whom  extraordinary  physical  strength  was  com- 

*  According  to  Justin  (xxi.  6)  the  Carthaginians  sent  an  embassy  to 
Alexander,  which  obtained  information  and  sent  in  a  report  as  to  his 
plans  against  them.  A  similar  statement  is  to  be  found  in  Frontinus 
("  Strateg."  i.  2,  3). 


476  CARTHAGE  AND   SYRACUSE. 

bined  with  beauty  and  the  most  resolute  audacity  with  cun- 
ning and  caution.*  By  his  marriage  with  the  widow  of  a 
rich  and  distinguished  citizen  lie  connected  himself  with  the 
aristocracy,  who,  however,  showed  him  little  favor  on  that 
account.  Sent  as  commander  of  a  body  of  troops  to  the  aid 
of  Croton,  he  established  a  legitimate  claim  to  the  prize  of 
valor,  but  this  prize  was  refused  him  by  the  oligarchs  of 
Syracuse.  Nothing  could  have  more  deeply  wounded  the 
susceptibilities  of  an  ambitious  young  man  than  the  refusal, 
on  party  grounds,  of  an  honor  so  eagerly  coveted. 

In  the  civil  quarrels  which  disturbed  Syracuse,  Agathocles 
now  took  the  side  of  the  people.  lie  was  banished,  recalled, 
then  banished  a  second  time.  The  aristocrats  persecuted  him, 
the  people  were  unable  to  protect  him,  and  on  one  occasion  it 
was  only  through  the  precaution  of  putting  another  man  into 
his  clothes  that  he  escaped  death.  The  unfortunate  person 
60  disguised  was  actually  slain.  Outside  the  walls  of  the  city 
he  attained  an  independent  position.  Southern  Italy  and 
Sicily  were  still  a  prey  to  all  the  misery  of  civil  and  foreign 
war,  which  in  Greece  itself  had  been  happily  diminished  by 
the  League  of  the  Public  Peace,  established  by  King  Philip. 
Numerous  exiles  were  everywhere  to  be  found,  who  were  en- 
gaged in  unceasing  feud  with  the  cities  whence  they  had 
been  expelled.  At  the  head  of  such  a  body  of  exiles  Agath- 
ocles made  his  reputation.  After  having  been  driven  out 
of  Syracuse  for  the  second  time,  he  collected  round  him  a 
vagabond  troop  of  outlaws,  who  regarded  him  as  their  chief, 

*  The  history  of  Agathocles  is  known  to  us  from  two  authors,  who, 
however,  contain  only  selections  from  others,  viz.,  Diodorus  Siculus  and 
Trogus  Pompeius,  the  latter  of  whom  comes  down  to  us  in  the  form  of 
excerpts  made  by  Justin.  "Whence  did  these  authors  draw  their  informa- 
tion ?  That  Trogus  had  Timoeus  before  his  eyes  is  clear  from  a  passage 
of  Polybius.  This  passage,  however,  refers  only  to  an  event  in  the  youth 
of  Agathocles.  Diodorus,  too,  cites  Timseus  here  and  there,  but  rejects 
hira.  It  is  assumed  that  he  follows  Callias,  who  wrote  in  favor  of  Agatho- 
cles. This,  however,  is  not  probable,  because  the  cruelties  of  Agatho- 
cles are  drawn  by  Diodorus  in  colors  too  dark  to  be  traced  to  a  flat- 
terer. All  that  is  certain  is  that  there  are  two  distinct  narratives,  each 
of  which  shows  internal  consistency  and  possesses  some  value.  From 
Polyaenus,  who  merely  connects  anecdotes,  I  can  get  no  real  information. 


AGATHOCLES.  477 

invested  him  with  absolute  power,  and  made  themselves  very 
troublesome  to  the  Syracusans. 

So  far  we  can  follow  the  biographical  accounts  which  Dio- 
dorus  has  incorporated  in  his  work.  According  to  him  the 
later  events  in  the  life  of  Agathocles,  like  the  earlier,  are  to 
be  traced  almost  exclusively  to  party  struggles  in  the  city ;  but 
in  another  account,  taken  from  Trogus  Pompeius  by  Justin, 
the  relations  between  Agatliocles  and  Carthage,  doubtless  the 
most  important  in  which  he  was  involved,  are  placed  in  the 
foreground.  According  to  Justin,  the  Syracusans,  who  at 
that  time  were  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Carthaginians, 
called  in  the  latter  to  help  them  against  Agathocles,  and  one 
of  the  commanders  of  the  Carthaginian  army,  named  Hamil- 
car,  appeared  to  give  them  the  assistance  they  required.  But 
the  Carthaginians  were  never  honest  friends  of  Syracuse. 
Ilamilcar,  it  is  true,  brought  about  a  reconciliation  between 
Agathocles  and  the  civic  authorities,  which  resulted  in  the 
admission  of  the  former,  with  his  followers,  into  the  city, 
but  he  was  already  a  condottiere  on  his  own  account,  and  the 
entry  of  his  troops  could  not  but  bring  disturbances  in  its 
train. 

These  disturbances  we  find  more  fully  described  in  Dio- 
dorus  than  in  Justin,  and  the  difference  between  the  two 
authors  is  very  instructive.  According  to  Diodorus  the 
exiles  were  re-admitted  after  taking  an  oath  to  do  nothing 
against  the  democratic  constitution  of  the  city:  the  dispute 
therefore  was,  in  his  view,  purely  an  internal  one.  Justin,  on 
the  other  hand,  tells  us  that  Ilamilcar  supported  Agathocles 
with  5000  of  his  savage  African  troops,  on  the  latter  taking 
an  oath  that  he  would  forthwith  recognize  the  supremacy  of 
Carthage.^^  In  both  authors  Agathocles  takes  an  oath,  but  in 
each  case  it  is  an  oath  of  which  the  other  author  knows  noth- 
ing. One  is  inclined  to  regard  both  obligations  as  having 
been  actually  entered  into,  but  to  suppose  that  neither  the 

*  Justin,  xxii.  2.  That  the  "  domestica  potentia,"  to  the  furtherance  of 
which  Agathocles  binds  himself,  is  no  other  than  the  Carthaginian,  is 
shown  by  the  following  words:  "Amilcari  expositis  insignibus  Cereris 
tactisque  in  obsequia  Poenorum  jurat,"  words  which  only  imply  an  in- 
ferior iDosition  in  the  alliance  made  between  him  and  Hamilcar. 


478  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

Cartliaginians  nor  the  Syracusans  knew  what  liad  been  prom- 
ised to  the  other  side.  Both,  as  it  turned  out,  were  de- 
ceived. 

In  Syracuse  there  ensued  one  of  the  most  horrible  deeds  of 
violence  which  ever  took  place  in  an  Hellenic  city — a  two 
days'  massacre,  in  which  both  the  aristocracy  and  the  most 
prominent  members  of  the  popular  party  suffered  alike.  The 
number  of  those  slain  was  reckoned  at  4000,  while  GOOO 
more  were  forced  to  seek  safety  in  flight,  after  which  Agatho- 
cles  seized  on  the  supreme  power,  and  established  what  may 
fairly  be  called  a  military  tyranny.  It  is  hardly  intelligible 
that  Ilamilcar  should  have  been  an  idle  spectator  of  these 
horrors  if  he  had  not  had  an  understanding  with  Agatho- 
cles,  and  had  not  expected  that  the  latter  would  show  him- 
self submissive  to  Carthage.  But  Agathocles,  once  in  power, 
began  to  aim  at  re-establishing  the  independence  of  the  neigh- 
boring towns,  and  showed  no  scruple  in  treating  the  allies  of 
Carthage  as  enemies.  The  latter  naturally  turned  to  Carthage, 
and  reproached  Hamilcar  with  having  allowed  a  man  to  come 
to  power  in  Syracuse  from  whom  nothing  could  be  expected 
but  constantly  increasing  hostility  towards  Carthage.  Un- 
doubtedly Hamilcar  had  acted  in  the  matter  without  instruc- 
tions, and  such  action  was  always  regarded  in  Carthage  as  an 
unpardonable  crime  if  it  did  not  turn  out  to  be  successful. 
The  Carthaginian  government,  by  a  secret  vote,  and  without 
allowing  Ilamilcar  a  chance  of  clearing  liimself,  condemned 
him  to  death.  It  was  regarded  at  the  time  as  a  special  grace 
of  the  gods  that  he  died  by  a  natural  death  before  the  sentence 
could  be  put  into  execution.  A  serious  war  was  now  more 
than  ever  inevitable. 

The  army  which  the  Carthaginians  brought  into  the  field 
under  a  second  Ilamilcar,  the  son  of  Gisgo,  was  far  superior 
in  numbers  to  that  of  Syracuse.  Agathocles,  who  was  by  no 
means  a  match  for  the  enemy,  met  with  a  defeat  at  Himera 
(310  B.C.),  due  principally  to  the  slingei-s  from  the  Balearic 
Islands,  who  hurled  largo  stones  with  an  unerring  skill  wliich 
they  had  acquired  from  early  practice.  AVithout  pausing  to 
lay  siege  to  Gela,  which  Agathocles  had  brought  under  Iiis 
control  by  means  as  cruel  as  those  which  he  had  employed  in 
his  own  city,  Ilamilcar  at  once  laid  siege  to  Syracuse.   There- 


AGATHOCLES.  479 

upon  the  whole  island  rose  against  Agathocles.  The  inhab- 
itants of  Camarina  and  Leontini,  of  Catana,  Tauromenium, 
and  Messana,  all  joined  the  Carthaginians.  The  destruction 
of  Agathocles,  hard  pressed  by  superior  forces  both  by  land 
and  sea,  and  unprepared  for  defence,  seemed  imminent.  In 
this  crisis  he  hit  upon  a  most  audacious  but  ingenious  plan, 
which,  especially  owing  to  subsequent  events,  made  his  name 
famous  in  later  times.  He  knew  that  the  power  of  Carthage 
in  Africa  itself  was  insecure,  and  determined,  though  actually 
besieged  at  the  time,  to  defend  himself  from  the  Carthaginian 
invasion  by  a  counter-attack  upon  Africa.  For  this  purpose 
he  collected  a  band  of  well-armed  and  devoted  followers.  He 
concealed  his  ultimate  intentions,  and  bade  all  stay  behind 
who  would  not  follow  his  fortunes  with  implicit  trust.  Out 
of  those  who  gave  in  their  unconditional  adhesion  he  formed 
a  compact  body,  in  wliich  he  even  included  some  slaves  of 
soldierly  character,  whom  he  bound  by  an  oath  to  his  person. 
Attended  by  more  good-fortune  than  he  could  have  expected, 
he  crossed  over  to  Africa.*  His  followers  were  without  ex- 
ception thorough  soldiers,  men  for  whom  his  name  had  over- 
powering attraction.  The  object  of  his  enterprise  was,  first 
of  all,  to  conquer  the  Libyan  territory,  and  then  to  make  an 
attack  upon  Carthage  itself.  The  prospect  which  Agatho- 
cles laid  before  his  army  was,  that  if  they  took  Carthage  they 
would  be  masters  both  of  Libya  and  Sicily,  but  he  made  his 
attempt  rather  as  a  condottiere  on  his  own  account  than  in 
the  name  of  Syracuse.  The  ships  which  he  brought  over 
with  him  he  set  on  fire,  as  a  sacrifice,  he  said,  to  the  Sicilian 
goddesses  Demeter  and  Persephone. 

His  enterprise  was  an  act  of  despair:  both  he  and  his 
troops  were  as  good  as  lost  if  they  did  not  succeed  entirely ; 
but  the  consciousness  of  this  gave  them  double  energy.  They 
completely  defeated  a  Carthaginian  army,  whose  command- 
ers, it  appears,  had  fallen  out  with  each  other.  Thereupon  a 
number  of  cities,  the  walls  of  which  the  Carthaginians  had 


*  Agathocles  set  sail  from  the  harbor  of  Syracuse  a  short  time  before 
August  15,  310  B.c.,on  which  day  there  was  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  (Dio- 
dorus,  XX.  5 ;  Justin,  xxii.  6). 


480  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

demolished,  fell  into  the  hands  of  Agathocles.  The  native 
population  rose  in  his  favor  and  a  Libyan  prince  came  over 
to  his  side.  He  took  possession  of  Utica.  Lastly,  while  the 
Carthaginians  were  thus  hard  pressed  by  a  Sicilian  army, 
trained  in  the  Greek  school  of  military  tactics,  another  enemy 
from  the  side  of  Kyrene  made  his  appearance  in  the  field. 

Kyrene  had  been  occupied  by  a  Makedonian  named  Ophel- 
ias, a  trusty  follower  of  Alexander  the  Great,  in  the  name  and 
with  the  support  of  Ptolemreus  the  son  of  Lagus.  The  city 
had  thus  been  brought  into  contact  w^ith  the  Graeco-Makedo- 
nian  kingdoms.  Ophelias  had  since  then  made  himself  inde- 
pendent, and  now  gave  free  play  to  his  ambition.  He  con- 
templated nothing  less  than  the  conquest  of  Africa,  and  formed 
an  alliance  with  Agathocles.  The  latter  declared  that  he 
would  content  himself  with  Sicil}",  and  willingly  leave  Africa 
to  Ophelias,  on  the  understanding  that  they  should  join  their 
forces  to  overpower  Carthage.  It  is  evident  that,  if  the  Make- 
donian troops  who  were  at  the  disposal  of  Ophelias,  and  who 
might  have  been  strengthened  by  reinforcements  from  Athens, 
had  marched  upon  Carthage  in  combination  with  the  troops 
of  Agathocles,  that  great  metropolis  would  have  been  in  the 
most  serious  danger.  The  invading  army  had  even  reason  to 
expect  that  a  Carthaginian  general  named  Bomilcar  would 
make  common  cause  with  them. 

It  was  thus,  then,  the  military  power  of  Hellas  with  which 
Carthage  had  to  struggle  for  its  existence.  The  intention 
which  had  been  ascribed  to  Alexander  appeared  likely,  some 
thirteen  years  after  his  death,  to  bo  carried  into  effect.  The 
struggle  between  the  Greek  and  Oriental  divinities,  which 
had  been  fought  out  by  Alexander  at  Tyre,  was  transferred  to 
a  new  battle-field,  and  the  dominion  of  the  Gneco-Makedonian 
element,  lately  founded  on  so  firm  a  basis  in  the  Ejist,  now 
threatened  to  extend  itself  to  the  West.  Efforts,  to  which 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  return,  had  already  been  made  from 
the  side  of  Epeirus  to  establish  a  Greek  supremacy  in  Italy. 
It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  enterprise  of  Agathocles  must  not 
bo  regarded  as  an  isolated  adventure,  for  it  is  in  reality  one 
more  event  in  the  history  of  Greek  genius  striving  for  the 
empire  of  the  world. 


SIEGE  OF  CARTHAGE.  481 

In  the  face  of  this  danger  the  old  religious  fanaticism  of 
the  Semitic  race  awoke  in  the  people  of  Carthage  to  its  full 
strength.  They  called  to  mind  all  the  faults  which  they  had 
ever  committed  against  their  religion — the  tithes  which  they 
had  not  fully  paid  to  Hercules-Melkart  in  Tyre,  but  above  all 
the  fact  that  they  had  omitted  to  carry  out  their  horrible  cus- 
tom of  offering  their  first-born  to  Cronus-Moloch.  Children 
had  been  imported  from  abroad,  secretly  brought  up,  and 
offered  instead  of  their  own.  For  these  religious  transgres- 
sions and  shortcomings  they  believed  themselves  now  to  be 
suffering  punishment.  Tliey  determined  to  renew  the  sac- 
rifice of  their  children  according  to  the  established  ritual, 
by  which  they  were  laid  in  the  hands  of  the  huge  Cronus, 
open,  and  pointed  towards  a  furnace  at  his  feet,  into  which 
the  victims  fell.  Two  hundred  children  from  the  principal 
families  of  Carthage  were  selected  and  publicly  offered  up. 
Many  who  found  themselves  suspected  of  similar  guilt  gave 
themselves  or  their  children  up  to  sacrifice.  The  ships  were 
draped  in  black.  Every  general  who  made  a  mistake,  or 
gave  any  ground  for  suspicion,  was  punished  with  death. 
Carthage,  in  the  depth  of  her  gloom,  collected  all  her  ener- 
gies to  repel  the  attack  with  which  she  was  threatened  in 
Libya. 

On  tlie  other  side  the  Greeks  were  as  little  able  as  ever 
to  combine  in  a  great  undertaking  without  some  dominant 
authority  to  lead  them.  Ophelias,  who  brought  with  him  an 
army  of  20,000  men,  was  treacherously  put  to  death  by  Agath- 
ocles.  The  Kyrenian  army,  however,  joined  the  Sicilian, 
so  that  for  the  great  struggle  with  Carthage  some  advantage 
seemed  to  be  gained  by  this  act  of  treachery.  But  Agathocles 
could  not  reckon  upon  the  loyalty  of  his  troops,  even  of  those 
he  had  brought  with  him,  much  less  on  that  of  the  Kyrenian 
forces  who  had  gone  over  to  his  side.  There  was,  as  we  have 
already  mentioned,  a  partisan  in  Carthage  who  had  shown  an 
inclination  to  side  with  him,  but  at  the  last  moment  he  was 
deterred  by  the  disturbances  which  broke  out  among  the 
Grecian  soldiery. 

Agathocles  himself  was  called  away  from  Africa  by  the 
troubles  which  broke  out  in  Sicily  during  his  absence.     He 

31 


482  CARTHAGE  AND  SYRACUSE. 

intmsted  his  army  in  Africa  to  the  command  of  his  son 
Archagathus.  In  consequence  of  the  fame  which  preceded 
him  he  again  won  the  upper  hand  in  Sicily,  but  the  Cartha- 
ginians made  effective  resistance  in  their  own  country,  and 
brought  three  considerable  armies  into  the  field.  On  the 
other  hand  there  arose  a  misunderstandinoj  between  Archas:- 
athus  and  his  troops  on  the  subject  of  their  pay,  which  the 
son  said  he  was  obliged  to  withhold  until  his  father's  return. 
When  Agathocles  returned  to  Africa,  not  long  after  this,  he 
told  his  troops  that  their  relation  towards  him  was  not  pre- 
cisely that  of  mercenary  soldiers,  but  rather  that  the  fruits  of 
victory  were  to  be  divided  between  them  :  they  might,  he 
said,  find  their  pay  in  Carthage.  A  coujp  de  main  might  pos- 
sibly have  been  successful  if  undertaken  immediately,  but 
Agathocles  was  not  in  a  position  to  carry  on  a  lengthened  cam- 
paign. He  succeeded  in  persuading  his  troops  to  march  a 
second  time  against  the  enemy;  but  when  fortune  turned 
against  him  a  mutiny  broke  out  in  his  camp,  which  compelled 
him  to  seek  safety  from  his  own  troops  in  flight.  His  son  was 
slain  by  the  mutineers.  Agathocles  himself  made  good  his 
escape,*  but  his  whole  enterprise  disappeared  in  smoke,  like  a 
meteor  which  flashes  across  the  sky.  It  has  no  real  impor- 
tance except  from  the  fact  that  it  disclosed  the  method  by 
which  the  power  of  Carthage  was  fated  eventually  to  be 
destroyed. 

In  Sicily,  however,  it  enabled  Agathocles  to  establish  him- 
self more  firmly.  Like  the  Makedonian  generals,  he  assumed 
the  title  of  king.  We  have  it  on  the  common  authority  of  an- 
tiquity, and  we  are  expressly  assured  by  Polybius,  tliat  after 
having  in  the  first  instance  established  his  power  with  the 
greatest  cruelty,  he  wielded  it  in  the  most  temperate  fashion. 
But  there  could  be  no  idea  of  repeating  his  enterprise  in 
Africa.  Agathocles  found  himself  compelled  to  conclude 
a  peace  with  the  Carthaginians,  by  which  they  recovered 


♦  According  to  the  reckoning  in  Mcltzer's  "OcscbichtodcrKnrthagcr" 
(i.  628),  which  is  founded  on  the  statement  of  Diodorus  (xx.  09),  "  inrX«i% 
eaQ  Kard  r^v  iv<rtv  rijc  irXudioQ  x^h^^'oc  fivrof,"  Agtttboclcs  left  Africa  about 
the  middle  of  October,  b.c.  807. 


RISE  OF  ROME. 


483 


the  whole  dominion  which  they  had  formerly  possessed  in 
Sicily. 

This  success  was  followed  by  a  fresh  development  of  the 
Punic  empire.  While  in  the  East  the  genius  and  the  power 
of  the  Greeks  preserved  their  supremacy,  the  Carthaginian 
power  in  the  West  maintained  itself  with  undiminished  lustre. 
Between  these  two  elements,  the  Greek  and  the  Cartha- 
ginian, the  Western  world  would  have  remained  divided  but 
for  the  appearance  in  their  midst  of  a  new  power,  that  of 
Rome. 


►^   OP  THE         ^ 


INDEX. 


Abraham,  in  Canaan,  23 ;  blessed  by  Mcl- 
chizedek,  24. 

Absalom,  rebels,  50 ;  slain  by  Joab,  ib. 

Academy,  the,  218,  331. 

Achaemenidoe,  the,  95;  their  power,  100. 

Acropolis,  the,  139;  burned,  173;  descrip- 
tion of,  217,  218. 

Adonijah,  51 ;  his  death,  52. 

^gina,  128;  conquered  by  th.e  Athenians, 
223. 

iEginetans  help  Athenians,  176. 

^gospotami,  battle  of,  272. 

iEschines,  at  Delphi,  384 ;  for  war  with 
Amphissa,  385 ;  opposed  by  Demosthe- 
nes, 386. 

iEschylus,  114, 196;  "Prometheus  Bound," 
289 ;  religious  views  of,  290, 332;  "  Seven 
against  Thebes,"  291 ;  "  Persians,"  ib.  ; 
♦' Suppliants,"  i6. ;  "Danaids,"292;  "Or- 
esteia,"  ib. ;  "  Agamemnon,"  ib. ;  "  Choe- 
phoroe,  ib. 

Agathocles,  rise  of,  475;  relations  with 
Carthage,  477;  supreme  power  seized 
by,  478;  invades  Africa,  479;  leaves 
Africa,  482 ;  concludes  peace  with  the 
Carthaginians,  ib. 

Agesilaus,  king  of  Lakedoemon,  346 ;  char- 
acter of,  347 ;  invades  Asia,  ib. ;  attacks 
Pharnabazus,  ib. ;  return  of,  349 ;  resists 
Epameinondas,  357  ;  in  Egypt,  359  ; 
death  of,  360. 

Agrigentum,  131,  132;  splendor  of,  283; 
fall  of,  472. 

Ahab,  61,  62. 

Ahriman,  106,  107. 

Ahura,  god  of  the  Persians,  105. 

Ai,  conquered,  31. 

Alcmajonidaj,  family  of  the,  139;  recall  of 
the,  147,  150;  destiny  of  the,  219. 

Aleuadaj,  clan  of  the,  288,  374. 

Alexander  (^Egus),  murder  of,  451. 

Alexander,  brother  of  Demetrius,  459. 

Alexander  the  Great,  becomes  king,  393 ; 


compared  with  Frederick  the  Great, 
394;  in  Thrace,  395;  destroys  Thebes, 
399 ;  decides  on  war  against  Persia,  401 ; 
ideas  of,  403, 404 ;  army  of,  405 ;  invades 
Persia,  406;  at  Ephesus,  409  ;  resolves 
to  attack  Phoenicia,  412,  413;  in  Egypt, 
415, 416 ;  visits  the  shrine  of  Amon,  417 ; 
crosses  the  Tigris,  419;  in  Babylon,  420, 
421 ;  adopts  Persian  customs,  423 ;  suc- 
cessor of  Darius,  426 ;  invades  India, 
427,  428,  430;  his  zeal  for  discovery, 
432 ;  sails  down  the  Indus,  ib. ;  rejoins  his 
fleet,  436 ;  returns  to  Babylon,  ib. ;  later 
schemes  of,  ib. ;  career  of  victory  of,  437 ; 
work  and  character  of,  438, 439 ;  bust  of, 
ib. ;  marriage  of,  440 ;  death  of,  ib. ;  off- 
spring of,  443. 

Alexandria  (in  Egypt),  founded,  416;  de- 
scription of,  466. 

(on  the  Indus),  433. 

Alkibiades,  opposes  Nikias,  243 ;  at  Argos, 
244 ;  central  figure  at  Athens,  246 ;  char- 
acter of,  ib. ;  speech  on  the  Sicilian  ex- 
pedition, 249 ;  recalled,  256 ;  escapes,  ib. ; 
in  Sparta,  257 ;  in  Persia,  260 ;  position 
of,  262;  opposes  Lakedasmonians,  263; 
recall  of,  266 ;  commander-in-chief,  269 ; 
leaves  Athens,  270 ;  death  of,  274,  275. 

Amalek,  war  against,  41. 

Amasis,  his  body-guard,  154. 

Amenemhat  II.,  9, 10, 13. 

Amenemhat  III.,  7. 

Ammon,  tribe  of,  23,  35 ;  David  conquers, 
147. 

Amon,  god  of  Egypt,  3, 16 ;  sole  worship 
of,  11;  temple  of,  12, 15,  97;  oracle  of, 
190;  shrine  of,  visited  by  Alexander, 
417. 

Amorites,  war  with  Israelites,  29, 30. 

Amphictyonic  Council,  182;  declares  war 
on  Phokians,  374;  new  league,  378; 
votes  against  Locrians,  384. 

Amphipolis,  taken  by  Brasidas,  237;  by 
Olynthians,  372 ;  by  Philip,  372, 379. 

Amu,  tribe  of,  8. 


486 


INDEX. 


Amyntas,  king  of  Makedonia,  156. 

Anaxagoras,  212, 318. 

Anaximandcr,  281. 

Angro-mainyus,  105. 

Anointing,  ceremony  of,  40. 

Antalkidas,  peace  of,  350. 

Antigonus  (Gonatas),  heir  of  Demetrius, 
459, 460 ;  king  of  Makedonia,  461. 

Antigonus,  in  Phrygia,  448;  allied  with 
Ptolemreus,  450 ;  named  Strategus,  452 ; 
saluted  as  king,  453;  death  of,  457;  pow- 
er of,  destroyed,  458. 

Antioch,465;  description  of,  466. 

Antipater,  left  in  Greece,  405 ;  takes  place 
of  Perdiccas,  449 ;  death  of,  450. 

Antiphon,  317. 

Aornus,  siege  of,  429. 

Apameia,  465. 

Apis,  type  of  Osiris,  4;  worship  of,  22,  97 ; 
lost,  467. 

Apollo,  in  the  "Agamemnon,"  292. 

Arabia  known  to  the  Israelites,  59. 

Arabians,  relations  with  Egyptians,  11 ; 
compared  with  Israelites,  34. 

Arachosia  subdued,  103. 

Arantha  (Orontes),  16. 

Arbela,  battle  of,  419, 420. 

Archelaus,  court  of,  369. 

Archidamus,  king,  222. 

Archimedes,  468. 

Archons,  143. 

Areopagus,  ancient  form,  138,  143;  power 
of,  reduced,  203. 

Arginusaj,  battle  of,  271. 

Argo,  heroes  in  the,  286. 

Argos,  126;  policy  of,  128;  allied  with 
Corinth,  242;  league  with  Athens,  244; 
league  with  Sparta,  245. 

Argyraspidcs,  450. 

Aristagoras,  of  Miletus,  158, 159;  at  Athens, 
161. 

Aristeidcs,  194, 195 ;  his  authority,  196 ;  re- 
forms of,  197;  establishes  supremacy  of 
Athens,  198;  joins  with  Kimon,  199. 

Aristophanes,  his  view  of  Clcon,  227 ;  the 
"  Peace,"  240, 241 ;  his  view  of  Socrates, 
825. 

Aristotle,  disagrees  with  Xenophon,  115; 
on  Solon's  reforms,  143 ;  pupil  of  Plato, 
836;  philosophy  of,  ib. ;  views  on  nature, 
ib.;  influence  on  the  Middle  Ages,  839; 
conception  of  the  State,  ib.;  combats 
Plato's  views,  840;  teacher  of  Alexan- 
der, ib. ;  scheme  of  education,  841 ;  death 
of,  448. 

Armenia,  rising  in,  104 ;  religion  of,  108 ; 
un<lcr  the  I)iadochi,463. 

ArrhidcuM,  half-brother  of  Alexander,  448 ; 
recognized  as  king,  444 ;  death  of,  451. 

Arriju),897,405,4I4. 


Artabazus,  as  Karanos,  361. 

Artaphernes,  165. 

Artaxerxes  (Mnemon)  made  king,  343. 

(Ochus),  361. 

,  second  son  of  Xerxes,  188 ;  subdues 

Egypt,  190. 

Artemisium,  battle  of,  171. 

Ascalon,  religion  of,  21. 

Ashdod,  taken  by  Sargon,  73. 

Aspasia,  friend  of  Pericles,  219. 

Assur,  god  of  Assyria,  104, 105. 

Assur-banipal,  in  Egypt,  78 ;  power  of,  79, 
91. 

Assur -nasir-habal,  king  of  Assyria,  67; 
reaches  the  Mediterranean,  68;  his 
death,  69. 

Assyria,  rise  of  monarchy  in,  65 ;  palaces 
of,  66 ;  military  power  of,  75 ;  religion  of, 
ib. ;  power  of,  81 ;  collapse  of,  82. 

Assyrians,  advance  of,  68,  69 ;  in  Canaan, 
95. 

Astarte,  in  Canaan,  14, 17, 19 ;  (Venus  Ura- 
nia), 21 ;  in  Jerusalem,  55. 

Astyages,  king  of  Media,  94. 

Asura,  the,  105. 

Athaliah,  daughter  of  Jezebel,  64. 

Athens,  constitution  of,  138 ;  rise  of,  149 ; 
democracy  of,  152;  helps  Aristagoras, 
161 ;  saved  by  Marathon,  168 ;  after 
Persian  war,  181 ;  walls  of,  182 ;  at  war 
in  Egypt,  190;  dominion  in  the  Archi- 
pelago, 192;  democracy  of,  194;  suprem- 
acy of,  198;  art  of,  201,  216,  319;  a  sea- 
port, 205;  armistice  with  Sparta,  208; 
under  Pericles,  216 ;  power  of,  220 ;  in  the 
north,  ib.;  naval  power  of,  222;  revolu- 
tion of,  411  B.C.,  264;  intellectual  life  in, 
317;  philosophers  at,  820;  maritime  su- 
premacy restored,  350 ;  joins  Sparta 
against  Thebes,  857;  decay  of,  361 ;  war 
with  Makedonia,  872 ;  makes  peace  with 
Philip,  377;  alono  opposes  Philip,  381 ; 
allied  with  Thebes,  886;  joy  in,  at  Phil- 
ip's death,  893;  aids  Thebes  against 
Alexander,  898;  peace  with  Alexander, 
400;  submits  to  Antipater,  447;  opposes 
Demetrius,  458. 

Athos,  wreck  of  I'ersian  fleet  off,  165. 

Attica,  an  Ionian  district,  188. 

Auramazda,  god  of  Persia,  102;  influence 
of,  105, 106, 112, 118. 

Autonomy, in  Boeotia,  210;  in  peace  of  An- 
talkidas,  851 ;  restoration  of,  in  Bccotia, 

•«»•  a 

Baai.,  in  Egypt,  2;  in  Canaan,  11, 14, 17; 
religion  of,  19,20,  21,25,28,  85;  temple 
in  Samaria,  62,  64 :  in  Asia,  86;  priest- 
hood of,  403;  worship  of,  favored  by  Al- 
exander, 421. 


INDEX. 


487 


Babel  (Babylon),  65. 

Babylon,  science  of,  4, 281 ;  religion  of,  19- 
21 ;  atmosphere  of,  19 ;  duodecimal  sys- 
tem in,  19;  mythology  of,  20;  cosmog- 
ony of,  21,  22 ;  kings  of,  67  ;  conquest  of, 
95 ;  revolt  of,  101 ;  centre  of  Seleucus's 
kingdom,  462. 

Bacchiadae  in  Corinth,  135. 

Bactria,  satrapy  of,  103,  110;  invaded  by 
Alexander,  425 ;  revolt  of,  464. 

Bagoas,  364,  365 ;  power  of,  401 ;  death  of, 
402. 

Bashan,  kingdom  of,  30. 

Bedouin  Arabs,  possession  of  Delta  by,  10 ; 
(Schasu),  14. 

Bel,  god  of  Babylon,  66. 

Ben-hadad  (Ben-hidri)  of  Damascus,  69. 

Beni-Hassan,  sepulchral  chambers  of,  7. 

Berosus,  467. 

Bey  rout,  13. 

Bibacta,  island  of,  435. 

Bithynia,  109. 

Bocotarchs,  the,  355. 

Boeotia,  206 ;  parties  in,  210. 

Brahmins,  455 ;  attacked  by  Alexander,  433. 

Brasidas,  wounded,  233 ;  in  Thrace,  236 ;  his 
character,  237 ;  death  of,  239 ;  ideas  of, 
351 ;  speech  of,  369. 

Bundehesh,  the,  107. 

Byzantium,  founded,  131;  reconquest  of, 
by  Athens,  267;  revolt  of,  360,  361;  de- 
fended against  Philip,  383;  importance 
of,  395. 

Cadmeia,  the,  surprised,  353;  Makedonian 
garrison  in  the,  391. 

CaDicratidas,  270.' 

Cambyses,  97;  crime  of,  98;  his  death, 
99. 

Canaan,  connected  with  Egypt,  14, 75 ;  con- 
dition of,  29 ;  rise  of  power  in,  48 ;  re- 
ligion of  Jehovah  in,  ib. 

Canal  of  Suez,  466. 

Cappadocia,  governed  by  satraps,  109 ;  un- 
der Ariarathes,  463. 

Captivity,  Jewish,  87. 

Caramania,  Alexander  arrives  in,  435. 

Caria,  prince  of,  362. 

Carthage,  founded,  60;  independence  of, 
81,  129;  power  in  Sicily,  259,  260,  471  ; 
attack  on,  contemplated  by  Alexander, 
436 ;  origin  of,  469  ;  position  of,  ib. ;  mar- 
itime power  of,  470 ;  effect  of  Persian 
wars  on,  475 ;  besieged  by  Agathocles, 
480,  481. 

Caryatides,  the,  217. 

Cassander,  son  of  Antipater,  451 ;  in  Make- 
donia,  456 ;  death  of,  459. 

Caucasus,  known  to  Jews,  59,  60;  barrier 
of  the,  108. 


Chaeroneia,  battle  of,  387, 388. 

Chaldaeans,  astronomy,  19,  468  (see  Baby- 
lon). 

Chalkedon  founded,  131. 

Chalkidike,  invaded  by  Brasidas,  237 ;  at- 
tacked by  Philip,  382. 

Chalkis,  foundries  in,  132. 

Chalu  (Phoenicians),  12. 

Cheironidae,  the,  288. 

Chemosh,  fire-god,  55. 

Chersonese  (Thracian)  threatened  by  Philip, 
381. 

Cheta  attacked  by  Sethos,  15, 16, 17. 

Chios,  seat  of  the  Homeridoe,  130;  rebels 
against  Athens,  360. 

Chnurahotep,  7. 

Cilicia  allied  to  the  Lydians,  91. 

Cimmerian  tribes,  advance  of,  90. 

Cleisthenes,  reforms  of,  151;  banished,  i6. 

Cleitus,  saves  Alexander,  407;  death  of, 
425. 

Cleorabrotus,  king  of  Sparta,  151, 160. 

Cleomenes,  king  of  Sparta,  151,  160. 

Cleon,  character  of,  227 ;  power  of,  228 ;  op- 
poses peace,  234;  in  Thrace,  238;  death 
of,  239. 

Cleopatra,  sister  of  Alexander,  451. 

Cnidus,  battle  of,  349. 

Coinage,  of  Argos,  128;  of  Athens,  141, 
142. 

Colchis,  119. 

Colonies,  ^olian,  130;  Dorian,  130, 220 ;  in 
the  West,  220. 

Conon,  Athenian  commander,  272. 

Cophen  (Cabul)  crossed  by  Alexander, 
430. 

Corinth,  early  historj',  126,  131;  war  with 
Korkyra,  220;  joins  Argos,  242;  helps 
Syracuse,  258 :  war  with  Sparta,  349 ;  con- 
gress at,  391,  394. 

Corinthian  war,  the,  349. 

Coroneia,  first  battle  of,  210 ;  second  battle 
of,  349. 

Cranon,  battle  of,  446. 

Craterus,  446. 

Crimissus,  battle  of  the,  474. 

Critias,  274-276;  his  death,  278. 

Croesus,  king  of  Lydia,  95, 154. 

Cunaxa,  battle  of,  344, 345. 

Cuneiform  inscriptions,  74,75, 88, 104. 

Cush,  king  of,  78. 

Cyprus,  ruins  of  Kitium,  74;  subjugation 
of,  77;  subdued  by  Amasis,  154;  Persian 
dominion  in,  351 ;  revolt  against  Persia, 
362;  under  Alexander,  413;  battle  of, 
452. 

Cyrus  (the  elder),  founder  of  Persian  em- 
pire, 94,  95. 

Cyrus  (the  younger),  268,  342 ;  aids  Ly- 
sander,272;  death  of,  345. 


488 


INDEX. 


D. 

Dagon,  fish-god,  38,  73. 

Dante  compared  with  Plato,  339. 

Damascus,  taken  by  Egyptians,  13;  com- 
merce of,  48 ;  conquered  by  David,  ib. ; 
lost  by  Solomon,  53 ;  importance  of,  69, 
110. 

Darius  (Hystaspis),  101 ;  empire  established 
under,  103;  in  the  Persoe,  114;  his  en- 
terprise against  the  Scythians,  156; 
vows  vengeance  on  Athens,  162;  death 
of,  169. 

(Codomannus),  king  of  Persia,  402; 

battle  at  Issus,  411,412;  beaten  at  Gau- 
gamela,  420 ;  murder  of,  425. 

Datis,  165;  expedition  of,  169. 

Davas,  the,  105. 

David,  chosen  king,  42 ;  laments  over  Saul, 
44;  at  Hebron,  45;  anointing  of,  ib.; 
palace  of,  46;  encounters  Philistines, 
ib. ;  conquers  Moab,  Ammon,  and  Edom, 
47,  48 ;  conquers  Damascus,  48 ;  death 
of,  62. 

Deborah,  36. 

Decalogue,  26. 

Deiokes  (Dayakku),  74,  94. 

Deisidaimonia,  212. 

Delion,  battle  of,  240. 

Delos,  Ionian  festival  in,  129;  united  to 
Athens,  148;  league  of,  185,  198,  199, 
215;  league  transformed,  200;  treasury 
of,  205 ;  inhabitants  removed,  238 ;  decay 
of  league,  262 ;  league  restored,  358. 

Delphi,  oracle  of,  117,  150,  154,  209;  Om- 
phalus  of,  287. 

Delta  conquered  by  Arabs,  10. 

Demetrius  (Poliorketes),  beaten  at  Gaza, 
452;  character  of,  456;  in  Greece,  458; 
takes  Athens,  459;  master  of  Make- 
donia,  460 ;  death  of,  ib. 

Democracy,  of  Athens,  145;  transformation 
of,  151 ;  opposed  to  aristocracy,  206. 

Demosthenes  (Athenian  general),  232 ;  at 
Pylos,  233. 

(orator),  opposes  war  with  Persia, 

362,  372 ;  speech  on  the  peace,  378 ;  on 
the  policy  of  Athens,  379;  in  Argos  and 
Mc8sene,'381;  third  Philippic  of,  382; 
opposes  iEschines,  384;  contrasted  with 
iEschines,  ib.;  in  Thebes,  386;  opposes 
Alexander,  398;  supports  Lcosthcucs, 
446;  death  of,  447. 

Devas,  the,  105. 

Diadochi,  the,  448. 

Dicastcrics,  203. 

DioiluruR  (Siculus),  860,  406, 414,  417, 444 ; 
legend  of  Scsostris,  18;  supplements 
Thukydtdcs,  254;  compared  with  Thu- 
kydides,  816 ;  compared  with  Justin,  477. 


Diodotus  opposes  Cleon,  232. 

Dion  at  Syracuse,  474. 

Dionvsius  (the  elder),  472,  473 ;  death  of, 
474. 

Dionysius  (the  younger),  474. 

Dorians,  the,  125;  compared  with  Israel- 
ites, ib. ;  success  of  the,  126 ;  colonies, 

Eclipse  of  the  moon,  259. 

Egypt,  ancient,  1 ;  religion  of,  2,  28, 107 ; 
language,  3 ;  politics,  ib. ;  science  of,  4 ; 
king  of,  ib. ;  pyramids  of,  ib. ;  art  of,  8 ; 
animal  worship  of,  9;  festivals  of,  10; 
spread  of  religion,  19;  atmosphere  of, 
ib.;  Israelites  in,  24;  nature  worship  in, 
26 ;  at  war  with  David,  47 ;  connected 
with  Solomon,  53 ;  connected  with  Jero- 
boam, 56 ;  sea  voyages,  59 ;  conquered 
by  Sennacherib,  75 ;  conquered  by  Esar- 
haddon,  77,  78 ;  subject  princes  in,  79 ; 
worship  of  Assur  in,  ib. ;  subdued  by  As- 
syria, 93, 155 ;  Greeks  in,  154 ;  revolt  of, 
188 ;  Athenians  in,  188, 189 ;  subdued  by 
Artaxerxes,  189;  sculpture  of,  3 19;  revolt 
of,  359,  362,  363 ;  reconquered  by  Persia, 
401 ;  occupied  by  Alexander,  416 ;  under 
Ptolemaeus,  448 ;  independence  of,  estab- 
lished, 452;  under  the  Ptolemies,  466; 
prosperity  of,  467. 

Elam  rebels  against  Assyria,  79. 

Eli,  death  of,  38. 

Elijah,  62,  63. 

Elisha,  63. 

Empedocles,  283;  works  of,  283, 318. 

Epameinondas,  character  of,  354-356;  in- 
vades Sparta,  356;  death  of,  359. 

Ephesus,  130 ;  occupied  by  Alexander,  409. 

Ephialtes,  200;  assassinated,  212. 

Ephors,  power  of  the,  134. 

Epidaurus,  126. 

Epinikia,  the,  285. 

Eratosthenes,  468. 

Esarhaddon  invades  Egypt,  77. 

Ethiopia,  Egypt  annexed  by,  72. 

Euclid,  468. 

Eumenes,  Secretary  of  Philip,  449 ;  death 
of,  450. 

Euneidie,  the,  288. 

Eiipatridic  at  Athens,  189, 142. 

Euphrates,  irrigation  system  of,  95. 

Euripides,  rival  of  Sophocles,  800;  view 
of  goils,  ib. ;  tragedy  of,  800, 801 ;  "  Tro- 
ades,"  301;  "Medeia,"  "Iphigeneia  in 
Tauris,"  *' Phoenissa;,"  "Orestes,"  "An- 
dromache," "  Iphigeneia  in  Auli8,"802; 
"Medeia,"  "PhnMlra,"  803;  invention 
of,i6.,-  sides  with  Pindar,  804;  philo- 
sophical spirit  of,  805;  religious  views 
of,  832 ;  quoted  against  Alexander,  424. 


INDEX. 


489 


Eurymedon,  battle  of,  187, 193. 
Exodus  of  Israelites,  25. 
Ezekiel,  the  prophet,  85. 

F. 

Ferver,  in  the  Zend-Avesta,  113. 
Furies,  the,  293. 

G. 

Gam?:.s,  gymnastic,  285. 

Gaugamela,  battle  of,  419. 

Gaza,  attacked  by  Sargon,  72, 73 ;  taken  by 
storm,  415;  battle  of,  452;  consequence 
of  battle,  455. 

Gedrosia,  Alexander's  retreat  throHgh,  434. 

Gela,  131. 

Gelon,  tyrant  of  Syracuse,  \170. 

Genesis,  book  of,  21. 

Genghis  Khan,  invasion  of,  108. 

Gerusia,  the,  133. 

Getae.  attacked  by  Alexander,  396. 

Gezer,  kingdom  of,  34. 

Gibborim,  the,  49. 

Gibeon,  surrender  of,  31. 

Gideon,  30,  37. 

Gilgal,  Joshua  at,  31,  32. 

Gizeh,  pyramids  of,  4. 

Gordium,  Alexander  at,  410. 

Gorgias  of  Leontini,  321. 

Goshen,  land  of,  24. 

Graces,  song  favored  by  the,  286. 

Graneicus,  battle  of  the,  406,  407. 

Greece,  geography  of,  110;  mythology  of, 
117-119;  rites  of,  118;  politics  of,  132; 
gcBeral  weakness  of,  301 ;  relations  with 
Persia,  305,  3G6 ;  movement  in,  after  Al- 
exander's death,  445. 

Greek,  language,  110;  colonies,  129,  130, 
157,  158;  spontaneity,  158;  supremacy 
in  Mgxan  sea,  179;  naval  superiority, 
187;  cosmogony,  281;'  art,  319-321; 
philosophy,  321,  322 ;  mercenaries,  303, 
364;  culture,  spread  by  Makedonians, 
392. 

Gyges  of  Lydia,  81,  90,  91. 

Gymnasium,  the,  218. 

II. 

Halicarnassus,  siege  of,  408. 

Halys,  battle  of,  92. 

Hamilcar,  helps  Agathocles,  477 ;  death  of, 

478. 
Hamilcar  (son  of  Gisgo),  478. 
Hannibal,  grandson  of  Hamilcar,  471. 
Ilaschop  (Makara),  11. 
Hazael  (Khazailu),G9. 
Hebrews,  connected  with  Phoenicians,  00. 
Hebron,  David  at,  44. 
Hecatajus,  the  Milesian,  100. 
Hegemonv,  of  Sparta,  208 ;  of  Hellas,  359, 

391;  ofMakedonia,  392. 


Heliaea,  the,  203. 

Hellas  (see  Greece). 

Hellespont  bridged  by  Xerxes,  170. 

Helots,  revolt  of  the,  181 ;  inclined  to  join 
Athens,  236 ;  introduced  into  the  armv, 
360. 

Hephajstion,  slays  Astes,  428;  precedes 
Alexander,  430 ;  his  death,  440. 

Heracleidae  compared  with  Hebrews,  29. 

Heracles,  pillars  of,  88 ;  legend  of,  117, 118. 

Heracles  (son  of  Alexander),  murder  of, 
451. 

Herma;,  mutilation  of  the,  252. 

Hermias,  tyrant  of  Atarneus,  380. 

Hermocrates,  defends  Syracuse,  258;  ex- 
iled, 47!. 

Herodotus,  438-,  historic  epos  of,  169,  175 ; 
eariy  life  of,  305,  306 ;  a  traveler,  306 ; 
compared  with  Thukydides,  ib.;  work 
of,  308;  information  of,  ib.;  history  of 
Persian  war,  ib. ;  charm  of,  309 ;  relig- 
ious views  of,  310,  311,  332. 

Heshboii,  kingdom  of,  30. 

Hesiod,  cosmogony  of,  124,  281,  284. 

Hezekiah  in  Jerusalem,  75,  76. 

Himera,  taken,  471 ;  second  battle  of,  478. 

Himilco,  473;  defeat  and  death  of,  474. 

Hindoos,  religion  of  the,  106. 

Hippias,  and  Hipparchus,  149;  fall  of, 
150 ;  restoration  of,  157, 161. 

Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  61. 

Homer,  poems  of,  120,  124;  used  by  Pei- 
sistratus,  148 ;  quoted  by  Phokians,  374. 

Homeric,  hymns,  129, 148 ;  ideas  revived  by 
Agesilaus,  346 ;  by  Alexander,  405,  406. 

Horeb,  mount  of,  26. 

Hosea,  the  prophet,  71. 

Hyksos,  shephertV-kings,  10. 

Hyphasis,  Alexander  crosses  the,  431. 

Hyrcania,  110. 

Hystaspis,  father  of  Darius,  103. 

I. 

Iamid.e,  the,  288. 

Iliad  compared  with  Nibelungenlied,  120 

{see  Homer). 
lUyrians  repulsed  by  Philip,  370. 
India,  mythology  of,  20 ;    rumors  about, 

426,  427 ;   invaded  by  Alexander,  427 ; 

Greek  coiinection  with,  403 ;  trade  with, 

406, 
Indus,  Alexander's  vovage  down  the,  437, 

438. 
lonians,  revolt  of,  159, 103. 
Iphicrates,  350. 
Iphigeneia,  legend  of,  118. 
Ipsus,  battle  of,  457. 
Isaac,  father  of  Jacob,  24. 
Isegoria,  praised  by  Herodotus,  152. 
Ishbosheth,  son  of  Saul,  45. 


490 


INDEX. 


Israel,  independence  of,  23 ;  subjugation  by 
the  Assyrians,  75. 

Israelites,  under  Pharaoh,  25 ;  conquest  of 
Canaan,  29,  31;  compared  with  Arabs 
and  Spaniards,  35 ;  compared  with  Do- 
rians, 126. 

Issus,  battle  of,  411,  412. 

Ithome  conquered,  127. 

J. 

Jabesh,  siege  of,  41. 

Jacob,  son  of  Isaac,  24. 

Jason,  his  voyage,  119;  in  Pindar,  286. 

Jaxartes  crossed  by  Alexander,  426. 

Jebus  («ee  Jerusalem). 

Jehovah,  antithesis  of  Baal,  21,  22,  28. 

Jehu,  anointed  king,  63 ;  tributary  to  Sal- 
manassar,  70, 

Jemshid,  monarch  of  legend,  114. 

Jeremiah  the  prophet,  85. 

Jericho,  fall  of,  29, 32 ;  (City  of  Palms),  36. 

Jeroboam,  56 ;  king  of  the  ten  tribes,  58. 

Jerusalem  (Jebus),  34;  building  of  temple 
at,  53;  Sennacherib  la3'3  siege  to,  76; 
independence  of,  77;  taken  by  Necho, 
85;  temple  burned  at,  86;  spared  by 
Alexander,  415. 

Jews,  contact  with  Alexander,  415;  influ- 
enced by  Greece,  465. 

Jezebel,  62;  confronts  Elijah,  63;  death  of, 
64. 

Joab,  David's  general,  60;  death  of,  52. 

Joash,  64. 

Jonathan  protects  David,  43. 

Joppa,  13. 

Jordan,  river,  31. 

Joseph  in  Egypt,  24. 

Joseph  us,  history  of,  30, 85. 

Joshua,  book  of,  29 ;  son  of  Nun,  31 ;  crosses 
Jordan,  ib. ;  his  importance,  33. 

Josiah,  king  of  Judah,  84. 

Judah,  end  of  power  of,  61. 

Judaism,  religious  idea  of,  59. 

Judges,  b<M)k  of,  35. 

Julian,  emperor,  20. 

Julius  Cajsar  adopts  Egyptian  calendar,  4. 

Justin  compared  with  Diodorus,  477. 

K. 

Kadesii,  seat  of  Cheta,  14;  attacked  by 
Sethos,  t6.  /  resistance  against  Egypt,  18. 

Karanoe,  title  of,  848,  862. 

Keltn,  mention  of  the,  896. 

Kidu  (Chittim),  12. 

Kimon,  son  of  Miltiades,  185, 186, 195;  ex- 
pedition against  Cyprus,  190 ;  peace  of, 
191;  character  of,  201;  successes  of, 
202 ;  his  services  rejected,  207 ;  recalled, 
ib.;  vtnits  the  god  Amon,418;  death  of, 
191,208. 


Kings,  book  of,  51, 55, 59,  76. 

Kitium,  ruins  of,  74. 

Korkyra,  131;   at  war  with  Corinth,  221, 

222 ;  taken  by  Athenians,  235. 
Kotytto,  worship  of,  326. 
Kyaxares,  Median  king,  91,  92;  compared 

with  Henry  I.,  92. 
Kybele,  worship  of,  326. 
Kylon,  139. 

Kynossoma,  battle  of,  267. 
Kypselus,  135. 
Kyrene,  Dorian  colony,  131;    Greeks   in, 

470;  occupied  by  Ophelias,  480. 
Kythera  taken  by  Athenians,  235. 
Kyzikus,  battle  of,  267, 


Lade,  battle  of,  163. 

Lakedaemon  (see  Sparta). 

Laodikeia,  464. 

Lebanon,  cedars  of,  15, 46, 54, 68. 

Leonidas,  171. 

Leosthenes,  revolt  of,  446. 

Leotychides,  flight  of,  181. 

Lesbos,  130;  revolt  of,  228;  revolt  sup- 
pressed, 229. 

Leuctra,  battle  of,  356. 

Locke,  remarks  on  man,  22. 

Long  walls,  building  of  the,  189;  their  ob- 
ject, 206;  destruction,  273;  restoration, 
350. 

Lot,  ne[)hew  of  Abraham,  23. 

Luxor,  edifices  of,  19. 

Lyceum,  the,  218.  • 

Lycurgus,  legend  of,  128, 137. 

Lydia,  war  against  Media,  92;  kings  of, 
154;  kingdom  destroyed,  ib. ;  does  not 
join  lonians,  162;  Cyrus  satrap  of,  343. 

Lysander,  character  of,  271 ;  at  /Egospo- 
tami,  272 ;  influence  of,  278,  342 ;  death 
of,  349. 

Lysimachus,  Thracian  satrap,  456,  457; 
subdued  by  Soleucus,  461. 

M. 

Maoians,  tribe  of  the  Medes,  100. 

Magyars  compared  with  Scythians,  92. 

Makara  (Ilaschop),  12. 

Makcdoilia,  king  of,  167,  220;  people  of, 
868 ;  tendencies  of,  371 ;  at  war  with 
Athens,  372;  monarchy  of,  392;  army 
of,  after  Ale.xandcr's  death,  442, 4-15 ;  un- 
der Cassander,  456;  under  Dcmetriai) 
459,460. 

Malli,  attack  on  the,  433. 

Malta,  470. 

Mamre,  13. 

Manetho,  467. 

Mantincia,  batUe  of,  246,  869;  anion  dis- 
solved, 862. 


INDEX, 


491 


Marathon,  battle  of,  167, 201. 

Mardonius,  164 ;  at  Plataea,  177,  178 ;  his 

death,  179. 
Massaga  taken,  428, 429. 
Massagetaj,  the,  90 ;  Cyrus  attacks,  96. 
Medes,  in  Asia,  92 ;  their  origin,  93. 
Media,  kingdom  of,  89,  98;   war  against 

Lydia,  93 ;  satrapy  of,  110  (see  Persia). 
Megara,  136. 
Megiddo,  13, 15. 
Melchizedek,  23, 24. 
Melos  taken  by  Alkibiades,  245. 
Meranon,  in  Asia  Minor,  402 ;  beaten  at  the 

Graneicus,  407 ;   in  supreme  command, 

410. 
Memphis  founded  by  Menes,  5. 
Menahera,  71. 

Menes,  founder  of  Eg5'ptian  monarchy,  5. 
Mentor,  in  the  pay  of  Persia,  365,  366; 

power  of,  in  Asia  Minor,  366 ;  death  of, 

402. 
Merodach-Baladan,  74. 
Meroe  conquered  by  Cambyses,  97. 
Merom,  lake,  32. 

Mesopotamia  (Naharain),  12;  power  of,  35. 
Messcnians,  127  ;  revolt  of  the,  181 ;  war  of 

the,  200. 
Midianites,  tribe  of  the,  30;  invade  Israel, 

35  ;  defeat  of,  37. 
Miletus,  130 ;  surrender  of,  408. 
Miltiades,  wins  at  Marathon,  167 ;  death  of, 

195. 
Mines  in  Thrace,  199. 
Moab,  tribe  of,  23,  30,  35;   conquered  b}' 

David,  47. 
Moeris,  lake  of,  6. 
Moloch  (Ikal),21,55. 
ISIonsoons  first  known,  435. 
Moses,  announces  Jehovah,  21 ;  cosmogony 

of,  21,22,25;  polity  of,  27, 31. 
Mothakcs,  the,  271. 
Muzri,  land  of,  70. 
Mycale,  battle  of,  180, 193. 
My  tilene,  130 ;  sentence  on,  230. 

N. 

Naiiauain  (INIesopotamia),  12, 15. 
Nathan,  prophet,  52,  53. 
Nations,  list  of,  in  Genesis,  59,  60. 
Naupactus,  206. 
Naxos  subdued,  199. 
Nearchus,  Admiral,  434. 
Nebuchadnezzar,  83 ;  conquers  Necho,  84 ; 

besieges  Jerusalem,  85 ;  in  Phoenicia,  87 ; 

legend  of,  88. 
Necho  (the  first),  79;   (the  second),  84; 

takes   Jerusalem,  ib. ;    contemplates   a 

canal,  153. 
Nectanebus,  360 ;  seeks  aid  from  the  Greeks, 

363. 


Nikias,  peace  of,  240 ;  sent  to  Sparta,  243 ; 
opposes  Sicilian  expedition,  249;  sails 
for  Syracuse,  255 ;  death,  259. 

Nile,  inundations  of,  2;  identified  with 
Deity,  4,  19. 

Nemesis,  idea  of,  311. 

Nineveh  (settlement),  65 ;  capital  of  Assy- 
rian empire,  81 ;  ruin  of,  81,  90 ;  religion 
of,  90 ;  faU  of,  92. 

Ninus,  65. 

Nitocris,  legend  of,  6. 

Noah,  his  three  sons,  59. 


Odyssey,  the,  123. 
(Enophyta,  battle  of,  207. 
Og,  king  of  Bashan,  30. 
Omphis,  son  of  Taxiles,  427. 
Onomarchus,  374 ;  death  of,  375. 
Ophelias,  occupies  Kyrene,  480 ;  death  of, 

481. 
Oligarchies  m  Greek  States,  143. 
Olympias,  wife  of  Philip,  393 ;  influence  on 

Alexander,  404 ;  recalled  to  ]Makedonia, 

450 ;  death  of,  451. 
Olympic    games,   128;    Sparta   excluded 

from,  244. 
Olynthus,  importance  of,  371,376;  rivalry 

with  Athens,  372 ;  taken  by  Philip,  377. 
Oracles,  use  of,  325. 
Ormuzd,  god  of  Persia,  106, 112, 
Orthagorida;,  the,  136. 
Osiris  typified  by  Apis,  4. 
Ostracism,  183,  214. 
Otys,  king  of  Paphlagonia,  348. 


Palimbotiira,  kingdom  of,  455. 

Panhellenism,  defective  in  Greece,  170, 
177 ;  invoked  against  Persia,  208 ;  in  Ar- 
istophanes, 241 ;  invoked  against  Philip, 
387. 

Palmyra,  110. 

Papacy  and  Empire  compared  with  history 
of  Israel,  58. 

Paphlagonia,  109. 

Parmenio,  sent  to  Asia  Minor,  391,  394 ; 
conspiracy  of,  424. 

Paropameisus,  country  of  the,  427, 

Parsua,  the,  93. 

Parthenon,  the,  216. 

Parthia,  under  Persia,  110 ;  revolt  of,  463. 

Pausanias,  Spartan  king,  179;  retires  to 
Byzantium,  180;  his  death,  181;  com- 
pared with  Themistocles,  184 ;  arrogance 
of,  197. 

Pausanias,  second  Spartan  king,  278. 

Peiraeus,  fortification  of  the,  182;  descrip- 
tion of,  217. 

Peisistratida;,  the,  157. 


492 


INDEX. 


Peisistratus,  friend  of  Solon,  147 ;  retnrn  of, 
148. 

Pelopiilas,  character  of,  355;  at  the  court 
of  Artaxerxes,  358. 

Peloponiiesian  league,  211 ;  origin  of  war, 
221 ;  beginning  of  war,  222 ;  war  re- 
newed, 2G1 ;  end  of  war,  273 ;  re-estab- 
lished, 352. 

Pelops,  legend  of,  118,  285. 

Pentacosiomedimni,  the,  197. 

Perdiccas,  king  of  Makedonia,  236,  369. 

,  IMakedonian  general,  443 ;  becomes 

chiliarch,  444;  opposed  by  other  gener- 
als, 448;  murder  of,  449. 

Periander,  135. 

Pericles,  194;  head  of  democracy,  202 ;  sup- 
ported by  Ephialtes,  ib, ;  reforms  of,  203  ; 
legislation  of,  204;  administration  of, 
209 ;  at  Delphi,  ib. ;  leader  of  the  Demos, 
211 ;  character  of,  213,  225;  bust  of,  214; 
care  of  navy,  215 ;  prepares  for  war,  222 ; 
death  of,  225. 

Perinthus  attacked  by  Philip,  382. 

Periccki,  the,  177;  introduced  into  armv, 
360. 

Persepolis, buildings  of,  111 ;  Alexander  at, 
421. 

Persia,  eastern  origin  of,  93;  religion,  95, 
105, 107 ;  monarchy,  98 ;  inscriptions,  99 ; 
formation  of  empire,  104;  solidity  of 
power,  108;  rise  of  monarchy,  153,  155; 
growth  of  empire,  157,  160;  first  inva- 
sion of  Greece,  165;  second  invasion, 
169;  war  continued,  185;  Sparta  allied 
with,  260;  influence  of  Greece,  270;  at- 
tacked by  Spaiti,  346  ;  allied  with  Ath- 
ens, 348;  allied  with  Sparta,  350;  ob- 
tains suzerainty  over  Greece,  352,  358; 
allied  with  Thebes,  358 ;  growing  power 
of,  361;  relations  with  Greece,  365;  res- 
toration of,  in  Asia  Minor,  380;  Alexan- 
der renews  war  with,  394  ;  weakness  of, 
403 ;  invaded  by  Alexander,  406. 

Pharnabazus,  267,' 346. 

Plicidias,  201 ;  art  of,  217,  320;  statue  of 
Zeus  by,  321. 

Phoidon,  tyrant  of  Argos,  128. 

Philip,  king  of  Makedonia,  361 ;  education 
of,  370 ;  forms  an  army,  ib. ;  repulses  the 
Illyrians,  ib. ;  first  efforts  of,  371 ;  di- 
plomacy of,  872 ;  seizes  Amphipolis,  ib. ; 
military  monarchy  of,  373 ;  attacks  the 
Phokians,  875 ;  master  of  Thessaly,  ib. ; 
occupies  Chalkidike,  376 ;  takes  Olyn- 
thus,  ib.;  takes  Delphi,  378;  at  the 
Pythian  games,  ib. ;  again  at  war  with 
Athens,  882;  expedition  against  the 
Scythians,  888;  appointed  Stratcgus, 
885;  political  work  of,  892;  death  of,  398 ; 
compared  with  kings  of  Prussia,  894. 


Philistines,  conquer  the  Delta,  10;  gods  of 
the,  38;  victory  of  Israel  over,  41 ;  shel- 
ter David,  43;  power  of,  45;  influence 
on  Israel,  61;  reduced  by  Assur,  70; 
conquered  by  Sargon,  73 ;  subjugated  by 
Assvrians,  75. 

Philolaus,  135. 

Philomelus,  374. 

Philon,  the  architect,  380. 

Phoebidas,  353. 

Phoenicia,  traces  of,  in  Egypt,  10 ;  religion 
of,  19;  commerce  of,  69,  60,  61;  revolt 
of,  362. 

Phoenicians,  voyages  of,  59 ;  connected  with 
the  Hebrews,  60;  colonies  of  the,  129; 
retire  before  Greeks,  130;  in  the  west, 
131;  importance  of  navy,  163,411;  in- 
ferior to  Greeks,  186. 

Phokians,  their  supremacy  at  Delphi,  209; 
eager  for  independence,  374;  excluded 
from  Amphictyonic  league,  378. 

Phokion,  commands  Athenian  fleet,  362; 
opposes  war  with  Philip,  445. 

Phraortcs,  revolt  of,  102. 

Phratriae,  138. 

Phrynichus,  262. 

Pindar,  mythology  of,  285;  morality  of, 
286 ;  views  of,  291 ;  preference  for  iEgina, 
288  ;  religious  views  of,  332. 

Plague  at  Athens,  224. 

Plataea,  battle  of,  177 ;  Theban  attempt  on, 
222 ;  reduced,  232. 

Plato,  early  life  of,  330;  zest  for  travelling, 
ib. ;  phases  of  life  of,  331 ;  dialogues  of, 
ib. ;  religious  views  of,  332 ;  attacks  the 
Sophists,  333;  "Euthydemus,"  "Theae- 
tetus,"  ib.;  "Sophist,"  "  Euthyphron," 
"  Laws,"  334 ;  "  Timanis,"  335 ; 'doctrine 
of  the  soul,  837 ;  "  Republic,"  338. 

Pleistoanax  invades  Attica,  210. 

Plutarch,  life  of  Epamcinondas,  356. 

Polemarchs  in  Thebes,  353. 

P«)ly crates  in  Samos,  136. 

Polygnotus,  painter,  201 ;  ideal  of,  320. 

Polyspcrchon  allied  with  Eumenes,  450. 

Pontiis,  kings  of,  463. 

Porua  opposes  Alexander,  430. 

Potida»a,  220, 221 ;  taken  by  Athenians,  286. 

Promantcia,  the,  209. 

Prometheus,  290. 

Protagoras  of  Abdera,  321,  322 ;  expelled 
from  Athens,  326. 

Psammctichus,  son  of  Necho,  88,  91. 

Psciido-Smerdia,  100. 

Ptah,  god  of  Egypt,  3. 

l*tolcma>us  (son  of  I^gus),  448 ;  beaten  by 
Demetrius,  452;  proclaimcil  king,  454. 

Ptolemies,  the,  466. 

Public  Peace,  league  of  the,  890,  897,  476. 

Punt,  land  of  balm,  12. 


INDEX 


493 


Pyramids  of  Gizeh,  4. 
Pythagoras,  in  Ephesua,  136;  doctrines  of, 
282 ;  league  of,  283. 

R. 

Ra,  god  of  Egypt,  3, 17. 
Rameses-Miamun,  17. 
Rehoboam  succeeds  Solomon,  56. 
Retennu,  the,  12. 

Rhodes,  her  colonies,  131;  resists  Deme- 
trius, 454. 
Rome,  first  appearance  of,  483. 
Roxana,  443. 
Ruten  (Palestine),  11,  12, 15. 

S. 

Sacued  Band,  the,  35G;  destruction  of, 
388. 

Sacred  war,  begun,  374;  continued,  378. 

Salamis,  recovered  by  Athens,  140 ;  battle 
of,  174 ;  battle  near  (Cyprian),  192. 

Salmanassar,  69 ;  death  of,  72. 

Samas,  the  god,  72. 

Samos,  first  revolt  of,  214;  fleet  at,  265. 

Samuel,  the  prophet,  38 ;  removes  gods  of 
the  Philistines,  ib. ;  selects  a  king  for 
Israel,  40  ;  quarrel  with  Saul,  41 ;  school 
of  the  prophets  founded  by,  55 ;  books  of, 
58. 

Samson,  37. 

Sandrocottus,  rise  of,  455. 

Sardanapalus,  65 ;  legend  of,  83. 

Sardis,  seat  of  Persian  satrapy,  95,  109; 
burning  of,  162;  taken  by  Alexander, 
408. 

Sargon  (Sarkin),  attacks  Gaza,  72;  con- 
quers Arabia,  73 ;  death  of,  75. 

Satrapies  of  Persia,  109. 

Saul,  elected  king,  41 ;  his  conquests,  ih. ; 
death,  43. 

Schasu  (Bedouin  Arabs),  14. 

Scythian  tribes,  90;  at  Ephesus,  91 ;  inva- 
sion of  Semitic  world  by,  93 ;  attacked 
by  Philip,  383 ;  by  Alexander,  395. 

Seisachtheia  at  Athens,  141,  144. 

Seleucus  (Nicator),  in  Babylon,  454;  en- 
larges his  dominions,  458;  his  histor}', 
462 ;  dominion  of,  ib. ;  founder  of  cities, 
464. 

Seleukeia,  462,  464. 

Semele,  legend  of,  439. 

Semiramis,  65. 

Sennacherib,  conquers  Egypt,  75 ;  besieges 
Jerusalem,  76. 

Septuagint,  the,  467. 

Sesostris,  legend  of,  18. 

Sethos  I.,  14. 

Seti,  king,  15. 

Sheba,  queen  of,  55. 

Shemaiah  the  prophet,  57. 


Shepherd  -  kings  in  Egypt,  10;  receive 
Moses,  24. 

Shepherd-peoples  in  Egypt,  1. 

Sheshon,  expedition  against  Judah,  72. 

Shiloh,  ark  of  the  covenant  at,  33;  settle- 
ment of  tribes  at,  34 ;  laid  waste,  38. 

Shishak,  war  with  Judah,  61. 

Sicilian  expedition,  origin  of,  248 ;  depart- 
ure of,  254 ;  destruction  of,  259. 

Sicily,  colonies  of,  131;  Dorians  in,  248; 
invaded  by  Athens,  253 ;  intellectual  in- 
fluence of,  321 ;  rivalry  of  Carthage  and 
Syracuse  in,  469. 

Sidon,  independent  of  Israel,  34;  its  antiq- 
uity, 60;  subdued  by  Assyria,  68,  76; 
betrayed  by  the  Persians,  363. 

Sikj'on,  126 ;  school  of  art  at^  137. 

Sinai,  21,  25. 

Singar  (Shinar),  15. 

Sisicottus,  427. 

Sisygambis,  mother  of  Darius,  443. 

Slaves,  traffic  in,  141. 

Socrates,  friendship  with  Alkibiades,  247; 
opposes  condemnation  of  generals,  271 ; 
dialectic  of,  323;  principles  of,  324;  op- 
poses Anaxagoras,  ib. ;  in  Aristophanes, 
325 ;  political  views  of,  326 ;  trial  of,  328 ; 
dcemon  of,  ib. ;  death  of,  329. 

Sogdiana,  110. 

Solomon,  anointed  king,  52 ;  his  marriage, 
53 ;  alliance  with  Tyre,  ib. ;  compared  to 
Pharaoh,  54 ;  government  of,  55 ;  death 
of,  56. 

Solon,  legislator,  137;  reforms  of,  140; 
timocracy  founded  by,  142 ;  poetical  re- 
mains of,  144;  unlike  Moses,  146;  bust 
of,  ib. 

Sophists,  principles  of  the,  322. 

Sophocles,  characters  of,  294;  *' CEdipus 
Rex,"  ib.;  " Trachiniae,"  "Aias,"  295; 
"Antigone,"  ' 'CEdipus  at  Colonus,"296; 
"Electra,"  297;  employs  the  Tritago- 
nist,  296 ;  compared  with  ^schylus,  297 ; 
resistance  to  tyrannical  power,  298 ;  lan- 
guage of,  300 ;  religious  views  of,  332. 

Spain,  Phoenician  settlement  in,  470. 

Spaniards  compared  to  Israelites,  35. 

Sparta,  her  constitution,  127, 133 ;  at  Ther- 
mopyla),  171;  after  Persian  war,  180; 
declines  naval  supremacy,  198 ;  difficul- 
ties of,  200;  antagonism  with  Athens, 
ib. ;  allied  with  Thebes,  206 ;  refuses  to 
join  Athens  against  Persia,  208 ;  breach 
with  Athens,  220;  helps  Syracuse,  258; 
allied  with  JPersia,  260;  supremacy  of, 
277;  makes  war  on  Persia,  346;  allied 
with  Persia,  350;  end  of  supremacy, 
356;  decay  of,  360;  will  not  oppose 
Philip,  387 ;  nor  Antipater,  446. 

Spartiatae,  the,  177. 


494 


INDEX. 


Sphacteria,  battle  of,  233,  235. 

Sphinx,  story  of  the,  119. 

Strabo,  368. 

Sultan  (Siltan),  73. 

Susa,  112;  taken  by  Alexander,  421. 

Sutech  (Baal),  2,  11,  17. 

Sychcra,  seat  of  secular  power,  34;  meet- 
ing of  tribes  at,  56. 

Symmachia  of  the  Hellenes,  179. 

Syracuse,  founded,  131 ;  siege  of,  258 ; 
struggle  with  Carthage,  469 ;  change  of 
constitution  in,  472 ;  besieged  by  Himil- 
00,  473;  renews  war  with  Carthage, 
475. 

Syrian  monarchy,  the,  464. 


Taanach,  13. 

Tanagra,  battles  of,  207, 235. 

Tantalus,  story  of,  285. 

Taraco,  king  of  Kush,  78,  79. 

Tarshish,  60. 

Tartessus,  independence  of,  81 ;  submits  to 
Carthage,  470. 

Taulantii  beaten  by  Alexander,  397. 

Taxiles  joins  Alexander,  430. 

Tegeia,  ally  of  Sparta,  244. 

Temenos,  the,  121. 

Ten  Thousand,  retreat  of  the,  345. 

Thachis,  land  of,  13. 

Thales,130,281. 

Thasos  subdued,  199. 

Theagenes,  136. 

Thebes  (in  Egypt),  6; 
sides  with  Persia, 
Sparta,  206;  attacks  Plataja,  222;  aids 
Thrasybulus,  277;  breach  with  Sparta, 
352;  wins  hegemony,  355 ;  allied  with 
Persia,  358;  held  in  check  by  Athens 
and  Sparta,  359;  allied  with  Philip, 
878;  allied  with  Athens,  386;  destroyed, 
399. 

Themistocles,  172,  174;  power  of,  181; 
character  of,  182 ;  flight  of,  183 ;  fate  of, 
184,195,197. 

Theramencs,  276;  his  death,  276. 

Thermopylaj,  battle  of,  171. 

The8eu»,lcgcndof,  118. 

Thcssaly,  republic  of,  288. 

Thirty  Tyrnuts,  the,  276 ;  expelled,  279. 

Thirty  Years'  Truce,  the,  211. 


(in  Boeotia),  135; 
176;    allied    with 


Thrace,  maritime  districts  of,  149;  under 
Lysimachus,  455. 

Thrasybulus,  278. 

Thukydides,  oldest  exact  historian,  149; 
his  failure  at  Eion,  239;  of  Athenian 
birth,  306;  compared  with  Herodotus, 
ib.;  merits  of,  310;  advance  made  by, 
312;  history  of,  313;  descriptive  power 
of,  314;  speeches  of, 316, 317, 471. 

Thutmosis  (L),  11 ;  (II.),  ib.;  (III.),  12. 

Tiglath-Pileser,  71. 

Timocracy  of  Athens,  142. 

Timoleon,  380, 474 ;  death  of,  474. 

Tissaphernes,  260;  supports  Alkibiades, 
264;  his  vacillating  policy,  267;  his 
death,  347. 

Titans,  the,  285. 

Triballi,  attack  Philip,  383 ;  beaten  by  Al- 
exander, 396. 

Tribes  (of  Israel),  march  of  the,  33 ;  settle- 
ment in  Canaan,  34 ;  rebellion  of  ten,  67 ; 
(of  Attica),  138, 151. 

Triremes  invented,  132. 

Trojan  war,  119. 

Tum,  god  of  Egypt,  17. 

Tutanch-Amon,  14. 

Tyrants,  the  Greek,  135;  hatred  of,  in 
'Greece,  381. 

Tyre,  religion  of,  19,  60,  62;  subdued  by 
Assyria,  68;  besieged  by  Nebuchadnez- 
zar, 87 ;  taken  by  Alexander,  414. 


VENDroAD,  the,  106. 


Xexophanes,  281. 

Xenophon,  on  the  ruin  of  Nineveh,  82; 

his  «  Cyropffideia,"  107, 115 ;  "  Anabasis," 

110,346. 
Xerxes,  invasion  of,  169 ;  flight  of,  176, 187 ; 

his  clafm  to  the  throne,  843. 

Z. 

Zadok,  high-priest,  52. 

Zarathustra,  106. 

Zcdekiah,  king,  85. 

Zend-Avesta,  the,  106-107, 113. 

Zeus,  121. 

Zion  (Jebus,  Jerusalem),  46. 

Zoroaster,  religion  of,  110. 


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BOURNE'S  LOCKE.  The  Life  of  John  Locke.  By  H.  R.  Fox  Bourne.  2 
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COLERIDGE'S  WORKS.  The  Complete  Works  of  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge. 
With  an  Introductory  Essay  upon  his  Philosophical  and  Theological  Opinions. 
Edited  by  Professor  W.  G.  T.  Siiedd.  With  Steel  Portrait,  and  an  Index. 
7  voU.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00  per  volume ;  $12  00  per  set. 


ValvMble  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries. 


DARWIN'S  VOYAGE  OF  A  NATURALIST.  Voyage  of  a  Naturalist. 
Journal  of  Researches  into  the  Natural  History  and  Geology  of  the  Countries 
Visited  during  the  Voyage  of  H.M.S.  Beagle  round  the  World.  By  Charles 
Darwin.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

CAMERON'S  ACROSS  AFRICA.  Across  Africa.  By  Vernet  Lovett 
Cameron.     Map  and  Illustrations.     8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

BARTirS  NORTH  AND  CENTRAL  AFRICA.  Travels  and  Discoveries  in 
North  and  Central  Africa:  being  a  Journal  of  an  Expedition  undertaken  under 
the  Auspices  of  H.B.M.'s  Government,  in  the  Years  1849-1855.  By  Henry 
Barth,  Ph.D.,  D.C.L.     Illustrated.     3  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $12  00. 

THOMSON'S  SOUTHERN  PALESTINE  AND  JERUSALEM.  Southern 
Palestine  and  Jerusalem.  Biblical  Illustrations  drawn  from  the  Manners  and 
Customs,  the  Scenes  and  Scenery,  of  the  Holy  Land.  By  W.  M.  Thomson, 
D.D.  140  Illustrations  and  Maps.  Square  8vo,  Cloth,  $6  00;  Sheep,  $7  00; 
Half  Morocco,  $8  60 ;  Full  Morocco,  Gilt  Edges,  $10  00. 

THOMSON'S  CENTRAL  PALESTINE  AND  PHCENICIA.  Central  Pales- 
tine and  Phoenicia.  Biblical  Illustrations  drawn  from  the  Manners  and  Customs, 
the  Scenes  and  Scenery,  of  the  Holy  Land.  By  W.  M.  Thomson,  D.D.  130 
Illustrations  and  Maps.  8vo,  Cloth,  $6  00 ;  Sheep,  $7  00 ;  Half  Morocco, 
$8  50;  Full  Morocco,  $10  00. 

CYCLOPAEDIA  OF  BRITISH  AND  AMERICAN  POETRY.  Edited  by 
Epes  Sargent.     Royal  8vo,  Illuminated  Cloth,  Colored  Edges,  $4  50. 

NICHOLS'S  ART  EDUCATION.  Art  Education  Applied  to  Industry.  By 
G.  W.  Nichols.     Illustrated.     8vo,  Cloth,  $4  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $6  25. 

CARLYLE'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  History  of  Friedrich  II,,  called 
Frederick  the  Great.  By  Thomas  Carlyle.  Portraits,  Maps,  Plans,  &c. 
G  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $7  50. 

CARLYLE'S  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  The  French  Revolution :  a  History. 
By  Thomas  Carlyle.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

CARLYLE'S  OLIVER  CROMWELL.  Oliver  Cromwell's  Letters  and  Speeches, 
including  the  Supplement  to  the  First  Edition,  With  Elucidations.  By 
Thomas  Carlyle.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

I'AST  AND  PRESENT,  CHARTISM,  AND  SARTOR  RESARTUS.  By 
Thomas  Carlyle.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

EARLY  KINGS  OF  NORWAY,  AND  THE  PORTRAITS  OF  JOHN 
KNOX.     By  Thomas  Carlyle.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

DAVIS'S  CARTHAGE.  Carthage  and  her  Remains :  being  an  Account  of  the 
Excavations  and  Researches  on  the  Site  of  the  Phoenician  Metropolis  in  Africa 
and  other  Adjacent  Places.  By  Dr.  N.  Davis,  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth, 
$4  00;  Half  Calf,  $6  25. 

BULWER'S  LIFE  AND  LETTERS.  Life,  Letters,  and  Literary  Remains  of 
Edward  Buhver,  Lord  Lytton,  By  his  Son,  the  Earl  of  Lytton  ("Owen 
Meredith ").     Volume  L     Illustrated.     12mo,  Cloth,  $2  75. 


10  Valuable  Works  for  Public  and  Ptivate  lAbraHes. 

BULWER'S  HORACE.  The  Odes  and  Epodes  of  Horace.  A  Metrical  Trans- 
lation  into  English.  With  Introduction  and  Commentaries.  With  Latin 
Text  from  the  Editions  of  Orelli,  Macleane,  and  Yonge.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

BULWER'S  MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS.  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works  of 
Edward  Buhver,  Lord  Lytton.     In  Two  Volumes.     12mo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

PERRY'S  ENGLISH  LITERATURE.    English  Literature  in  the  Eighteenth 

Century.     ByTiioMAS  Sergeant  Pekry.     12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 
TROLLOPE'S    AUTOBIOGRAPHY.      An    Autobiography.     By    Anthony 

Trollope.     With  a  Portrait.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 
TROLLOPE'S  CICERO.     Life  of  Cicero.     By  Anthony  Trollope.     2  vols., 

12mo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 
EATON'S  CIVIL  SERVICE.    Civil  Service  in  Great  Britain.     A  History  of 

Abuses  and  Reforms,  and  their  Bearing  upon  American  Politics.    By  Dorman 

B.  Eaton.     8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

PERRY'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  A  History  of 
the  English  Church,  from  the  Accession  of  Henry  VIII.  to  the  Silencing  of 
Convocation.  By  G.  G.  Perry,  M.A.  With  a  Sketch  of  the  History  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States,  by  J.  A.  Spencer,  S.T.D. 
Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

ABBOTT'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  The  French 
Revolution  of  1789,  as  Viewed  in  the  Light  of  Republican  Institutions.  By 
John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Illustrated.  Svo,  Cloth,  ^5  00 ;  Sheep,  $5  50 ;  Half 
Calf,  $7  25. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON.    The  History  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte.     By  John  S. 

C.  Abbott.     Maps,  Illustrations,  and  Portraits.    2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $10  00; 
Sheep,  $11  00;  Half  Calf,  $14  50. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA.  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena ;  or, 
Anecdotes  and  Conversations  of  the  Emperor  during  the  Years  of  his  Captivity. 
Collected  from  the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas,  O'Meara,  ^lontholon,  Antom- 
marchi,  and  others.  By  J.  S.  C.  Abbott.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00  ; 
Sheep,  $5  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

ABBOTT'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  The  History  of  Frederick  the  Sec- 
ond, called  Frederick  the  Great.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Illustrated.  Svo, 
Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

MCCARTHY'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.     A  History  of  Our  Own  Times, 

from  the  Accession  of  Queen  Victoria  to  the  General  Election  of  1880.     By 

Justin  McCarthy.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 
WATSON'S    MARCUS    AURELIUS    ANTONINUS.      By  Paul  Barron 

Watson.     Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 
FOLK-LORE  OF  SHAKESPEARE.     By  the  Rev.  T.  F.  Thiselton  Dyer, 

M.A.,  Oxon.,  Author  of  *'  British  Popular  Customs,  Post  and  Present."    Svo, 

Cloth,  $2  50. 
THOMSON'S  THE  GREAT  ARGUMENT.     The  Great  Argument ;  or,  Jesus 

Christ  in  the  Old  Testament.     By  W.  H.  Thomson,  M.A.,  M.D.    Crown  Svo, 

Cloth,  ^2  00. 


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